Harry Potter and the Power of Destiny
by BrunetteBella
Summary: Sequel to Harry Potter and the Web of Prophecies. Harry is back along with the rest of the Hogwart's gang and the Second War is looming ever closer. Can Harry Potter survive his seventh year at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?
1. Default Chapter


    **Chapter 1: Summer Holiday
    ~*~+~*~+~*~+**
    O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of
    infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams."
    ~William Shakespeare, _Hamlet_
    **~*~+~*~+~*~+**
    The dry, dusty summer air had settled in on the subdivision surrounding Privet Drive, the lack of wind driving most of the
    residents there nearly insane. The heat was too much to handle for the teenage boy with messy black hair at Number 4, who had
    taken refuge inside his dark but cool bedroom for most of the day. Only during the evening, when the heat had subsided and
    the nosy neighbors who thought him to be a crook had turned their interests elsewhere, was he free to wander outdoors. Harry
    Potter walked quietly down the dark street, kicking at little pebbles along the way. He came to a fork in the road and turned
    left, wandering wherever he pleased. He knew that the Order would disapprove of his being alone and out on the deserted street
    at night, but then again, was he ever alone? He glanced around him and, seeing no one, sighed to himself. _Of course you
    can't see them,_ he thought bitterly. _Whoever's trailing me tonight is hidden behind an invisibility cloak._ With
    this somewhat spooky thought in his head, that he was being followed, he walked briskly back to Number 4.
    Entering the house, he thumped up the stairs loudly, opening the door to his room and falling onto his bed. This summer seemed
    to be going the slowest of them all. _Last one I'll ever have to spend here,_ he thought with a happy sigh. The Dursleys
    were no longer treating him as horribly as before, but rather ignorning him. Either way, he preferred the wizarding world over
    the dull, monotonous life of the muggles. He stared sullenly at the calendar on his wall. _July 1,_ he thought. _Only
    30 more days until I'm of legal age._ An owl fluttered up to his window and tapped sharply on the window. Hurrying over
    to get the letter it was carrying, Harry opened and closed the window as quietly as possible, so the Dursleys would not hear.
    Immediately, he recognized the tawny owl as the one that had brought Rachel her letter only a few months before. Tearing off
    the envelope, he read the letter rapidly.
    _Dear Harry,
    Hope you're doing well, I know how much you hate those
    muggles. We've talked to Dumbledore and he thinks it
    would be fine if you came to visit, as long as you only
    spend a week here and then go back to Headquarters after
    that. I can't wait for you to meet my Aunt and Uncle!
    Spain is fabulous, I know you can't speak Spanish, but
    it will be wonderful anyway. We'll be by July 30, around
    4:00. If that's not convenient, please write back! I can't
    wait to see you again!
    Love always,
    Rachel_
    Harry grinned as he stared at the letter. He couldn't believe that Dumbledore was letting him leave the house, but then again,
    after his 16th birthday, he would no longer be underage. Maybe then the spell wouldn't protect him from Voldemort? He shivered
    at the thought. Searching through his desk for a piece of parchment and a quill, he jotted down a quick letter to Dumbledore.
    Dear Professor,
    Just writing my daily letter to you. Thanks for letting me
    visit Rachel over the holiday. I have a question. After I am
    of legal age, does the protection of living with the Dursleys
    wear off? Just wondering. Talk to you soon.
    Sincerely,
    Harry Potter
    He coaxed Hedwig out of her cage gently and tied the letter to her leg, watching her fly off. He turned back to his desk and
    rummaged around for another piece of parchment. On this one, he wrote another letter.
    Dear Rachel,
    Thank you so much, you don't know what this means to
    me to be able to escape this house. 4:00 sounds
    great. I can't wait to meet your family! See you
    this weekend.
    Love,
    Harry
    Still grinning, he tied his letter onto the tawny owl's leg and watched as it soared out his open window. Sighing, he laid back
    in his bed. _What should I do until July 30?_ he mused.
    **********************
    Harry awoke suddenly the next morning to the sound of an ear-splitting scream. He scurried out of bed, pulling on some clothes
    quickly and running a hand through his messy hair. He knew that even though he had been upstairs, somehow whatever had just
    happened was going to be blamed on him. And he was right.
    "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT? POTTER, GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!" Uncle Vernon's voice thundered up the stairs. Harry
    shivered a bit and reluctantly left his room, shoving his wand into his back pocket. On the way down the stairs, he heard
    another scream and the sound of breaking glass. He hurried to the foot of the staircase and peeked into the living room. His
    Aunt Petunia was cowering behind an armchair; Dudley was whimpering as he sat huddled atop the kitchen counter, which was
    creaking ominously; Uncle Vernon was staring at Harry with a mixture of fear and fury from behind the sofa.
    "What is this - this thing?" he asked angrily, disgust evident in his tone. Harry glanced once around the room without noticing
    anything.
    "What're you-" he began, but was interrupted as something grabbed him around his midsection.
    "Harry Potter, sir!" a squeaky voice cried. "Now that you is going to be a full-grown wizard, Dobby has come to serve you!"
    Harry looked down at the house-elf's huge glowing eyes.
    "Er, thanks, Dobby. I guess we'll just go upstairs for now..." Harry trailed off.
    "Oh no you don't! That- that- THING isn't living in my house!" Uncle Vernon roared. Harry glared coldly at his uncle.
    "Don't worry, neither of us is planning on staying here much longer. Come on, Dobby," he said, climbing the stairs. He heard
    Dudley whimper from the kitchen.
    "Mummy, can I come out now?" he whispered. Harry held back his laughter.
    *******************
    Life at Number 4 Privet Drive seemed almost bearable for the next few days, with Dobby there to talk to. Harry hardly had to
    leave his room any longer, with the house-elf bringing him food at all hours of the day. He still didn't really understand
    why Dobby had come to him, but he had a nagging suspicion that it was all part of the Order's elaborate plan to watch him
    24 hours a day.
    One night he lay awake in bed, listening to Dobby's quiet snores and wondering who was on duty watching over him tonight.
    Could it be Tonks? Kingsley? Mundungus? What he would give for them to come talk to him right now! As usual, the Daily
    Prophet had been quite uninformative these past few weeks. He rolled onto his back and fell into a restless sleep. Images
    floated past his eyes, blurred and moving quickly. He struggled to see what they were. Dementors? Death Eaters? A group of
    figures wearing black cloaks came into a sharp focus. Harry stood in front of them all, his thin white hands folded behind
    his back.
    "It is nearly time," he said in a cold voice that was not his own. "The Potter boy will soon be 17, and his protection will
    be gone. That will be our opportunity; we will strike when he has crossed the threshold into adulthood. He thinks that as a
    baby he was strong enough to kill the greatest Dark Lord ever? He shall be defied!" Cold laughter rang in Harry's ears and
    he sat bolt upright in bed, panting. He wiped his hand across his sweaty forehead, his scar still throbbing. Groping in the
    darkness, he found his glasses and turned on the small lamp by his bed. He lay back in bed, trying to calm himself. _I knew
    that anyway,_ he thought to himself. _I figured it would be like that... and of course they're going to try to come after
    me... But I'll be in Spain, hopefully they won't find me._ He stared at the ceiling, and knowing that it would take hours to
    fall back asleep, he reached for a well-worn book that he had been reading and rereading all summer. The gold lettering on the
    spine of the book read "Apparition and Disapparition: A Beginner's Guide".
    He flipped through the dark green volume, smiling as he reached the page he was looking for. Deeply engrossed, he sat back
    against the wall and began to read.
    ****************
    Well, guys, what do you think?? I know I said it wouldn't be up this week, but here I am not studying for finals and making
    a new fanfic... lol, oops. But this is way more fun! Any and all comments are appreciated! If you've read this far -
    **REVIEW!!!** Thank you, everyone!!!
    


	2. Chapter 2


    **Chapter 2: ¡Adios!**
    Harry glanced up at his clock, sighing to himself. It was 2:30 on July 30; in only an hour and a half, Rachel would be by to
    pick him up and he would be free of the Dursleys forever. He tried fruitlessly to do a bit of homework to pass the time, but
    he found that he could not concentrate at all. Instead, he focused on the task of packing, making sure that each of his items
    was carefully placed, for once. Dobby appeared eventually, carrying a small tray with cup of tea. Harry laughed.
    "Doesn't my horrible Aunt notice every time you nick something out of the kitchen, Dobby?" he asked smiling. Dobby's eyes
    grew wide as he shook his head.
    "Oh, no sir. She doesn't talk to Dobby, she is never saying anything..." Harry laughed again; he could just see the petrified
    look on his Aunt Petunia's face every time the house-elf walked into her spotless kitchen. _She's probably afraid he'll
    spill or break something,_ he thought, rolling his eyes. Aunt Petunia didn't quite understand the concept of house-elves.
    "Master Harry, you is all ready to leave?" Dobby questioned, poking through Harry's belongings.
    "Yes, Dobby, everything's ready. And really, you don't need to call me master!" he exclaimed.
    "Whatever Master says," Dobby replied, rearranging Harry's spellbooks. Harry gave up; it was hopeless. He lay down on his
    bed and closed his eyes. _Maybe a little nap will make the time go faster..._
    *******************
    "POTTER! GET DOWN HERE, YOU HEAP OF DUNG!" an angry voice yelled up the stairs at him. Groggily, Harry sat up and looked at
    the clock. 4:02. _They're here!_ he thought excitedly, rubbing his eyes and gathering all of his things. He dashed down
    the hallway and saw several people standing at the foot of the stairs. Rachel was indeed there, along with Tonks and two other
    women he recognized as Emmeline Vance and Hestia Jones.
    "Harry!" Rachel cried, running towards him and hugging him. He dropped all of his belongings on the floor to hug her. As he
    released Rachel, he turned to view the rest of the crowd.
    "Wotcher, Harry," Tonks said, smiling at him and winking. Uncle Vernon was eyeing her as if her purple hair was going to infect
    him with a dangerous disease. Dudley, he knew, was out with his usual gang and Aunt Petunia had gone shopping. Harry grinned
    a bit at the sight of his Uncle so angry because of the group of four witches standing in his foyer.
    "We should really be going," Emmeline said, wrapping her dark green shawl tighter around her shoulders. She held out a neatly
    wrapped present. "We'll be using this as a port key," she said, and the group closed in around her, everyone placing a finger
    on the box and looking at Harry expectantly. Harry glanced up at his uncle, whose face was turning more and more purple every
    second.
    "Well, er, bye Uncle Vernon," Harry said simply, giving him a tiny wave. "I won't be back." He turned away from him and collected
    all of his belongings, stacking Hedwig's cage on top of his cauldron and also placing a finger on the box.
    "Good riddance," he heard his uncle mutter as he felt the familiar tug behind his navel and Number 4 Privet Drive spun away
    from his sight.
    The group appeared with a "pop!" just outside of a small house on a dusty dirt road with some mountains in the far distance.
    Harry looked around and realized he didn't recognize anything. He heard a sound beside him and saw Dobby appear.
    "Dobby, why didn't you travel by port key with us?" he asked. Dobby shook his head.
    "House-elves is restricted from many kinds of magic, Harry Potter. Port keys do not work for us."
    "Shall we go in?" Rachel asked, pointing to the house. Harry stared at the simple house with its tiled roof and nodded as he
    swallowed a lump in his throat. _It's fine, everything's fine, I'm sure they're nice people..._
    "Let's go," he said nervously, attempting to smile. Rachel grinned and grabbed his hand.
    "Oh, don't worry so much," she said. Tonks, Hestia, and Emmeline laughed.
    "This is actually for you, Harry," Hestia said, holding out the gift-wrapped package they had used as a port key. "It's an
    early birthday present."
    "From who?" he asked. Tonks smiled.
    "Open it and you'll see," she said. "Anyway, we're going back to headquarters. See you in a week, Harry!" The three witches
    disapparated.
    Harry began dragging his trunk towards the house. The door flew open suddenly and a plump dark-haired woman Harry
    recognized from one of Rachel's pictures came flying out the door.
    "Harry Potter! ¡Bienvenidos!" she cried, grinning. She hugged him and kissed him on both cheeks.
    "Er.. hello," Harry managed to say.
    "¿Como estás? ¡Tu eres flaca! Necesitas mas comida," the woman said, poking his stomach. Harry glanced nervously
    at Rachel, who simply rolled her eyes.
    "Él no habla español, tía," Rachel said, picking up one of Harry's bags. "Let's take these upstairs to your room,"
    she said as she opened the door. Harry nodded quickly, happy to hear a language he understood. They reached a door down a
    sunny hallway and Rachel opened it, exposing a neatly made bed along with a sturdy dresser and nightstand made of dark wood.
    There was not much inside of the room, but everything was clean and polished until it was shining. Harry pushed his belongings
    into one corner and sat on the bed.
    "Thanks again for having me stay here, Rach," he said, smiling up at her. She grinned.
    "You'll have a fun time, not knowing Spanish and all," she joked. Harry frowned.
    "What was your aunt trying to tell me before?" he asked. Rachel laughed.
    "She says you're too skinny. You need to eat more," she replied. "I'm sure she'll take care of that, she cooks like a maniac.."
    They both laughed. "Meals are a little different here, we usually don't eat until late. I'm sure you'll notice some other things."
    Harry simply nodded. Rachel gasped as she noticed Harry's dark green book.
    "Have you been practicing for your apparition test?" she asked.
    "I've been reading and rereading that book all summer," Harry confessed. "I want to be certified as soon as possible."
    "We're going into the city tomorrow," Rachel replied. "There's a bit of a wizarding community there, and they have a testing
    site for apparition. I could come with you!" she said excitedly.
    "I thought your birthday was in September? Aren't you already certified?" he asked. Rachel shook her head.
    "I just never got around to it, I guess. It would be nice to be able to, though." The door creaked open and Rachel turned around
    to see her aunt, who raised her eyebrow warningly at her.
    "Sobrina, no debes estar en el cuarto de hombre," she said pointedly. She turned to Harry. "You hungry, Harry Potter? You need
    to eat, after your travels..." she said in broken English.
    "Er, no, I'm fine, thanks," he said, shaking his head.
    "Raquel, quieres té?" she asked.
    "No," Rachel murmured, shaking her head. The woman glanced at Rachel one last time before leaving. Harry sighed as he fell
    back onto his bed.
    "I'm going to be lost this entire week, aren't I?" he asked. Rachel shook her head.
    "Nah, you'll be fine. I'll translate for you!" she answered. Without waiting for Harry to ask, she said, "What she just said
    when she came in here was that I shouldn't be in a boy's room. And asked if I wanted tea," she added.
    "Why aren't you supposed to be in here?" he asked. Rachel smirked.
    "You know those 'traditional values'... Boys and girls can't be left alone, who knows what would happen?" They both laughed.
    "Maybe this," Harry whispered, leaning over and kissing her. Rachel grinned.
    "I think that's exactly what she's afraid of."
    ********************
    A few hours later, Harry's stomach was rumbling and he wished that he had taken the food that Rachel's aunt had offered him.
    He rummaged through his trunk and found a bar of Honeyduke's chocolate which he consumed almost immediately. After unpacking,
    he still felt tired. _Maybe another nap would help,_ he thought, looking at his soft bed longingly. He heard a knock
    on his door.
    "Come in," he called. The door opened and Rachel stood outside.
    "My Aunt Isabel wants to have dinner early tonight since you're here. Are you hungry yet?" she asked.
    "I'm starved," Harry answered. "And what do you mean early? It's nearly 9:00 at night!" Rachel shrugged.
    "We usually eat at 10. It's so hard to get used to eating at 6:00 when I go back to Hogwart's," she commented. "I'll go and
    tell her you want to eat."
    "Thanks," Harry replied.
    "Did you want to come down and talk for a while? Everyone's home now, and they're all so excited to see you," she said.
    "Sure," he said, a bit uncomfortably. He glanced at the mirror on the wall, pulling his hand through his dark shaggy hair.
    He followed Rachel down the stairs quietly and into a room off of the foyer that turned out to be a brightly lit kitchen.
    A girl who appeared to be a few years older than him squealed as soon as he entered.
    "Oooh, Raquel, que guapo!" she cried. She stood and held out her hand. "Hullo Harry, I'm Adriana, glad to meet you," she said
    with a musical Spanish accent. Harry sighed with relief, knowing that there was another person in the house that spoke English.
    "Ana went to La Escuela de Magia in Madrid, she graduated last year," Rachel explained, gesturing towards Adriana.
    "I have my own house but I prefer to be over here, especially for meals," Adriana said, winking.
    "Let's see," Rachel said. "You've already met my Aunt Isabel, this is my Uncle Andrés, and these are my other cousins
    Ramon and Raul," she said, pointing to two twin boys about the age of 8 with dark hair. "And this is the baby of the family,
    Sergio." She gestured towards a boy who looked about 6. "The only non-muggle besides me is Ana. Although you don't always
    know right away, so maybe one of the boys are." Adriana and Rachel laughed.
    "Probably not," Adriana said sarcastically. Aunt Isabel hurried into the room.
    "La cena está lista" she announced. The family rose and walked over to a tiny table packed with chairs. Aunt Isabel
    began carrying out dishes heaping with food, and Harry's mouth began watering immediately. Everything looked exotic but
    delicious. After saying grace, everyone dug in, and the table was quiet as they began eating. Aunt Isabel looked at Rachel and
    said something in Spanish.
    "Harry, she wants to know if your room is all right," Rachel said in between bites.
    "Oh, tell her it's perfect," he replied, smiling. Adriana nudged him.
    "You tell her," she said. "_Es perfecto_, that's all you have to say."
    "Es perfecto," Harry repeated, and the entire room beamed at him. He smiled back. _Maybe this won't be so bad after all,_
    he thought to himself.
    ***************
    After excusing himself from dinner, Harry went upstairs and got ready for bed. Rachel came and knocked on the door again.
    "Since it's your birthday tomorrow, we'll go into the city and do some fun stuff. I can show you around!" she said excitedly.
    "Sounds great," Harry replied.
    "We can go shopping and then take our Apparition tests!" she squealed.
    "Er... shopping?" Harry asked, grimacing. Rachel laughed.
    "Don't think of it as shopping... think of it as... buying cool stuff!" she exclaimed. Harry laughed.
    "Good night, Rachel," he said, kissing her on the cheek.
    "Night, Harry," she replied, closing the door. Harry lay in his bed, smiling to himself. Even with shopping, tomorrow sounded
    like it was going to be fun.
    ****************
    So maybe it wasn't the most exciting chapter, but it's still up! Anyone want to be on the email list for this? Just tell me
    in a review or email me under the "Contact" thing. Special thanks to my reviewers:
    happy_go_lucky
    pearldrop
    PadfootPotter
    Fairy
    KeenW
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    stevie
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    Thanks guys!!
    

Next Chapter 


	3. Chapter 3


    **Chapter 3: Madrid**
    Harry awoke the next morning feeling comfortable and happy. The sunlight was streaming in through the curtains that covered
    his bedroom window and spilling onto the brightly tiled floor. Harry's eyes rested on the wrapped package which had been
    haphazardly thrown on top of his dresser. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at it thoughtfully. _It IS my
    birthday..._ he mused. He climbed out of bed and picked up the box. Shaking it slightly, he heard a jingling noise. Unwrapping
    the box hurriedly, he pulled out a fine golden chain with what appeared to be a few charms attached. Placing one of the
    tiny charms in his hand, he held it up to his eye level to examine it, and in doing so, gasped. It was a miniature stag.
    "Prongs," he breathed. He hurriedly examined the other two; one was a shaggy-looking dog, the other clearly a wolf. "Padfoot
    and Moony," he whispered to himself. Harry glanced back down into the box and noticed a folded note in the bottom. Weakly,
    he reached inside to get it. He unfolded the parchment and smoothed out the creases before reading it.
    _Dear Harry,
    Happy birthday! I have had this for long
    enough, and felt it was time to pass it along
    to you. Each of us had one of these charms - I
    ended up with your father's long ago, and Sirius'
    two years ago. Keep it with you as a symbol of
    strength.
    I know that at 17 years old, you have become a
    legal adult. Instead of giving you cheap advice,
    I want you to know that I feel you have become
    an outstanding young man. You are mature beyond
    your years and have shown bravery and perserverance
    where others have given up. It is not the law that
    makes you a man, Harry, but life's trials and
    past failures which have shaped your future into
    a bright one. I am proud of you beyond words.
    As you know, I have left, but I promise that I will
    return. I hope to see you again sometime soon,
    Harry.
    Your friend,
    Remus_
    Harry wiped a tear away from his eye as he reread the letter. Wherever Remus was, he hoped he was doing well. He heard a
    sharp tap on the glass behind him and turned to see several owls attempting to enter the window. Harry opened it and they
    flocked towards him, gathering on his bed.
    "One at a time!" he cried, laughing. Hedwig pushed herself to the front, ruffling her feathers at the other birds who were
    nestled on the bed, one of which Harry recognized as Pidwidgeon. He opened Hedwig's package first. A letter was attached.
    _Dear Harry,
    Hope you're enjoying your summer holiday! I know
    I am. My parents and I have been in Rome for a few
    weeks, it's just been lovely. Hedwig showed up
    yesterday - she always does! - so I sent this package
    along with her. See you soon, and write back!
    Love,
    Hermione_
    Harry tore open the package excitedly. He pulled out a stout square box.
    "Wow, Hermione," he breathed, running a hand over the box which contained a set of Italian-made Gobstones. It didn't seem like
    her to buy something like this - usually he just got books from her, or that horrible homework planner... He shuddered at
    the thought. _Well, Ron and I will get lots of use out of this,_ he thought as he set it aside and attempted to catch
    Pidwidgeon, who had begun circling his head. "Crazy bird," he muttered as he managed to pulled off the package that was attached
    to the owl's leg. He read Ron's note first.
    _Dear Harry,
    Congratulations, you're of age! I'm sure you're
    having loads of fun at Rachel's house. I am the
    only one at headquarters under the age of 20 (well,
    besides Ginny), and it's getting a bit old. I can't
    wait until you come. I thought this might come in handy,
    since you're in Spain.
    Your friend,
    Ron
    PS - Hermione thought it would be clever for us to
    switch birthday presents for you, so in case you're
    confused, that's why._
    A bit bewildered, Harry tore open the package. It was a book - a Spanish/English dictionary. "Good thing Ron told me that,"
    he muttered, laughing a bit. "Otherwise I would have thought they'd both gone insane! Hermione, a game, and Ron, a book?"
    He laughed again. The door to his room was suddenly flung open.
    "Happy birthday, Harry!" Rachel cried, hugging him and sitting down next to him on his bed. "Well, I see I'm not the first
    to wish it to you!" she exclaimed, staring at the presents filling his bed and the owls still carrying unopened packages.
    Harry laughed.
    "Yeah, really. I haven't even gotten to these yet," he said, gesturing. Rachel's eyes lit up.
    "Ooh, open them!" she said. The first package was a collection of candies from Hagrid, including Bertie Bott's Every Flavor
    Beans, Fizzing Whisbees, and the usual infamous treacle fudge, which Harry immediately pushed to the side. The enclosed
    note wished him happy birthday and also said that he was looking forward to seeing Harry soon. The final packages were from
    Fred and George; Rachel gasped as Harry lifted the lid off of the biggest box, which turned out to be filled with pranks and
    magical jokes of every kind. Harry snatched up the note and read:
    _Harry,
    Since you're our business partner, we thought you'd like
    a few examples of our products. So we enclosed one of each.
    We expect to see you in the shop when you buy your school
    supplies in Diagon Alley this fall!
    Fred & George Weasley_
    Rachel was still staring at the boxes, her eyes wide. "If this stuff isn't outlawed at Hogwart's now, it will be soon," she said
    jokingly.
    "I'm sure," Harry agreed. Rachel glanced at the clock on the wall.
    "Let's get ready to go! My aunt's going to drive us in to town as soon as we're ready," she said. Rachel left and Harry
    changed his clothes and washed up before heading downstairs for some breakfast. Soon, they were both ready to go. Harry,
    Rachel, and Adriana all piled into the car and Aunt Isabel drove them to the city, dropping them off near a huge outdoor
    marketplace.
    "Rach, this is amazing!" Harry exclaimed, looking around at the colorful wares, smelling the fresh-made foods, and hearing
    the music coming from a few booths down. She just laughed.
    "come on, let's go!" she said excitedly. Harry stared in amazement as the girls strolled along with him down the narrow
    path between the vendors' booths. He was so caught up looking at his surroundings that he barely noticed where they
    were going. Rachel and Adriana were headed down a dark and forbidding alley.
    "Er... why are we going this way?" he asked doubtfully. Adriana smiled.
    "You'll see... the best part of Madrid is right through here!" she said, gesturing towards the alley.
    "If you say so," he replied, glancing around nervously. They walked to the other end of the alley, then entered a dingy-looking
    building with a cracked sign hanging above the doorway. Pushing aside his anxiety, Harry followed. He was amazed to see
    a clean and shining restaurant inside, filled with people.... wearing robes?? Realization dawned on him - this must be the
    wizarding section of the city! He noticed Rachel and Adriana leaving the room through a door on the other side, and hurried
    after them. They emerged on a red-bricked, busy street, filled with more vendors; this time, however, they were selling slightly
    different wares.
    "I've erm, got to go meet a friend. Adios!" Adriana said, scurrying away. Rachel rolled her eyes.
    "A 'friend', yeah right," she said sarcastically. "I'm sure it's Miguel... he's more than a friend, she just won't admit it..."
    They both laughed. Rachel glanced down the street. "Did you want to shop for a while before we take our apparition tests?"
    Harry swallowed nervously; he had forgotten all about taking his test.
    "Er... sure, that sounds like a good idea," he said.
    "Great," Rachel replied. "Let's start over there," she said, gesturing towards a row of vendors. The first booth they visited
    was full of silver jewelry. "Oooh, look at this," Rachel sighed, touching a thin silver bracelet. "¿Cuanto cuesta?" she asked
    the vendor.
    "Diez," he grunted. Rachel frowned.
    "Siete," she replied.
    "Nueve," he grunted again. Harry looked back and forth between them. Rachel considered this for a moment.
    "Ocho," she said with finality. The vendor shook his head.
    "Nueve," he replied, rearranging some jewelry behind a small table. Rachel shrugged and began walking away. "Senorita -
    senorita!" the man called. "¡Ocho es bien!" She returned, grinning, and slid some money across the table. Harry gaped
    at the scene.
    "Wha- I don't understand..." he mumbled. "What was that, Rach?" She grinned again.
    "Bargaining," she replied. "You have to, at all of these places. It's fun! When you find something you want, you can try."
    "Ha! Fat chance," he scoffed. "I don't know any Spanish!"
    "It's not THAT hard!" she exclaimed. "You know the numbers right? Uno, dos, tres, cuatro... When you want to ask how much,
    you say 'cuento cuesta'."
    "I guess," Harry muttered as they entered another tent-like booth. This one was full of robes; each one was a different color,
    all of them brilliant and exotic-looking. He had never seen anything like them before. Rachel stood on her tip-toes and
    whispered in his ear.
    "Pick one out and I'll pay for it. It can be your birthday present from me. You bargain for it, and I'll pay."
    "I'm not going to let you pay-" Harry began, but Rachel held up her hand.
    "It's a present. A birthday present. Now, let's find one." She began searching up and down the aisles. Harry's eyes rested
    upon a brilliant green robe at the end of the second row. He walked over to it, touching the silky fabric between his
    fingers. "Oh, Harry, that's gorgeous," Rachel whispered from behind him. "Try it on!" she urged. He took it off the rack and
    walked back to the small compartment where he slipped the garment on. He stepped outside. Rachel gasped.
    "Harry, it matches your eyes! Oh, it's perfect!" she exclaimed.
    "I like it," he said, smiling. "But when would I ever wear it? I have to wear my Hogwart's robes at school..."
    "On the weekends," Rachel suggested. "Or holidays. Or after we graduate, you know, that's coming up within a year, Harry!"
    He laughed.
    "okay, okay, I'll get it," he said. He changed back into his regular clothes and took the green robe up to the man in charge
    of the booth.
    "¿Cuanto cuesta?" Harry asked nervously, glancing at Rachel. She grinned.
    "Trienta," the man replied. Harry looked at Rachel, bewildered.
    "I don't know numbers that high!" he exclaimed.
    "It's thirty," she replied. "Let's try to get him to sell it for 20, shall we?" she smiled. "That would be 'viente', by the
    way."
    "Viente," Harry told the man. He shook his head.
    "Viente y siete", the man said.
    "That's 27," Rachel whispered.
    "Viente y dos," Harry said boldly. Rachel looked at him, impressed.
    "Great!" she exclaimed. The man didn't agree.
    "Viente y cinco," he argued.
    "Viente y cuatro!" Harry exclaimed.
    "Bien, bien," the man mumbled. Harry grinned as Rachel handed him some money.
    "That was great!" Harry told her as they left.
    "I know, you did wonderfully. I should try to teach you Spanish," she mused.
    "Er, I'm not that good," he replied, laughing. Rachel glanced at her watch.
    "Let's head over to the apparition testing site. If we still want to shop after that, we can," she said. Harry nodded nervously.
    He followed Rachel through a few streets, coming to a large white building labeled "International Ministry - Spain Division".
    They entered and Rachel studied a sign, written in Spanish, before turning right and walking a few doors down. She stopped
    at one labeled "Apparition testing."
    "This is so exciting!" she squealed. "I can't wait, can you?"
    "I'm a little nervous," Harry confessed. Rachel smiled.
    "You'll be fine. Don't worry." She pushed open the door and Harry followed behind her. A young witch sat behind a rickety-
    looking desk blowing bubbles with her gum and smacking it loudly.
    "What can I do for you?" she asked disinterestedly, staring at Harry and Rachel.
    "Er, well, we'd like to take our tests..." Harry began nervously. The girl nodded and thrust a couple pieces of paper towards
    them.
    "Fill out these forms and then you can take the exam," she replied, picking up a "Teen Witch" magazine from behind her desk.
    Harry and Rachel filled out the papers and returned them. "Someone will be out to administer the exam in a moment," she replied,
    not looking up from the magazine. They returned to the plastic chairs in the waiting area.
    "I hope this goes okay," Harry muttered. A man with a thick mustache and a woman with bobbed black hair entered the room.
    The man motioned for Rachel to come with him, and the woman smiled at Harry as Rachel left the room.
    "&@191Hablas español?" asked the woman.
    "Not really," Harry answered, shrugging. The woman laughed.
    "That's okay, this is the International Ministry, we all speak several languages. Please come through this door," she
    instructed. Harry followed. "Please stand there," she told him, pointing to a red "x" on the floor. Harry did as he was told.
    "First, you'll be apparating to here," she said, pointing to another "x" on the other side of the room. "Go ahead whenever
    you're ready." Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Just like the book had said, he focused all of his attention
    on the place he was to apparate to. _Please work,_ he thought desperately. The world around him swirled away and he
    found himself exactly upon the "x" on the other side of the room. He grinned.
    "Excellent," the woman said, marking something down on her clipboard."Next, I'd like you to apparate just outside this office -
    to where you came in through the door. Just outside in the hallway is fine." Harry did as he was told and when he opened
    his eyes, he was staring at the door he had come in earlier. The woman appeared with a "pop!" next to him.
    "Perfect," she muttered, scribbling down something. "Now for the final test. Please apparate to Museo de Prado." Harry's
    stomach dropped.
    "I... I don't know where that is..." he mumbled. She smiled sweetly.
    "That's okay, if you can't picture the location, just focus on the name." Harry nodded nervously and closed his eyes.
    _Museo de Prado_, he thought. _Please oh please work..._ When he opened his eyes, he was on a sidewalk in an area
    of the city he didn't recognize. His tester appeared beside him again.
    "A block away," she told him, writing on the clipboard. "But not bad - you're pretty close!" she said, pointing towards a
    beautiful building just down the street. "Now, apparate back into the testing facility and the exam will be complete."
    Harry did this and sat down in one of the hard plastic chairs. Rachel apparated into the room a few moments later, looking
    a bit flustered. She sat down beside him.
    "The results will be out in a few minutes," the woman assured them, leaving. Harry smiled weakly at Rachel.
    "How did yours go?" he asked.
    "Awful," she groaned, covering her face. "I did the stuff inside okay, but when I had to apparate outside I ended up on top
    of the building instead of in front of it!" She groaned.
    "I'm sure you'll still get certified," Harry told her, rubbing her back lightly.
    "Not after that," she moaned. "I did horribly." The man with the mustache appeared and gave the girl at the desk a stack
    of papers. She shuffled them, looking bored.
    "Harry James Potter," she called. Harry stood up nervously and approached the desk. "Congratulations," she told him, handing
    him a paper. Harry grinned and walked back to his chair.
    "What's it say?" Rachel whispered, leaning over his shoulder. The paper was a simple certificate, stating that "Harry James
    Potter has been internationally recognized as having the ability to apparate and disapparate."
    "Rachel Rosa Wheaton," the girl called from the desk. Nervously, she made her way towards the desk. She grasped the paper
    and let out a little scream of joy.
    "Harry! I made it!" she squealed. He hugged her.
    "I knew you would," he replied, kissing her on the cheek.
    "Let's go get some lunch and celebrate!" she cried. Holding her hand, Harry grinned as they left the builing. It was barely
    noon, but this day had already been the best he had had in several years.
    ***************
    Sorry I took so long to update!! There's more going on right now than I thought there would be. Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed
    the latest chappie! Read and review, please!
    Thanks to:
    siriussnape
    Bell
    Fairy
    Lindsey
    Slopper_x
    prongs
    stevie
    snitchcatcher
    RavenGryffendor
    pearldrop
    Bretko
    PadfootPotter
    Anonymous
    Hannah
    JuJu
    Ash
    happy_go_lucky
    MarZ
    Whew! That's a ton of people! Thanks, everyone!!
    

Next Chapter 


	4. Chapter 4


    **Chapter 4: A Dark Night
    ~@~+~@~+~@~+~@~+~@~+~@~+~@~+~**
    "Nothing good ever comes of violence." -Martin Luther
    **~@~+~@~+~@~+~@~+~@~+~@~+~@~+~**
    Harry awoke the next morning feeling happy and refreshed. Yesterday had been wonderful; after passing their apparition tests,
    he and Rachel had gone out for a nice lunch and had had a wonderful afternoon. He smiled as he thought about it. The day had
    seemed almost magical.
    Harry glanced at his clock and decided to get up. After getting dressed, he headed downstairs to have some breakfast. Rachel
    was already sitting at the table, prodding her omelette with a fork.
    "Good morning," she greeted Harry, smiling. Her dark blonde hair fell down her back in two thick braids.
    "'Morning," he answered, sitting down next to her. Aunt Isabel bustled over to the kitchen table.
    "Hungry?" she asked, smiling graciously.
    "Yes, er, si," Harry answered, nodding enthusiastically. She hurried away to the stove.
    "I don't really know what we're going to do today, maybe we could go out later tonight?" she asked, looking thoughtful. Harry
    shrugged.
    "Sounds fine to me," he said, looking hungrily at the plate that Aunt Isabel had just placed in front of him. He dug in.
    "This is delicious!" he exclaimed. Rachel nodded, staring at her omelette.
    "Yeah," she mumbled. Harry met her troubled eyes.
    "Is something wrong?" he asked quietly. She shook her head.
    "No, I'm just not very hungry. I just... oh, well, it's hard to describe... I just have a bad feeling, that's all." Harry
    looked at her curiously.
    "A bad feeling? About what?" he asked. Rachel smiled sheepishly.
    "I don't know really, it's a bit odd. I'm sure it's nothing. Did you have anything you wanted to do today?" she asked,
    changing the subject. Harry didn't push it any further.
    *************
    They spent the morning relaxing in the backyard, drinking sweet lemonade and chatting. After lunch, Rachel yawned tiredly.
    "I think I'll take a little siesta. You should too, you know, if we're going to go out tonight!" she told Harry. He agreed
    and headed upstairs. The thick summer heat made his eyelids feel heavy. _Maybe a little nap,_ he told himself, laying
    down on his bed. He fell asleep almost instantly.
    **************
    Harry found himself inside of a handsome house. Actually, it was more of a mansion - he began wandering through it, walking
    through room after room, each complete with old-fashioned looking furniture and everything made of fine oak, polished to a
    shine. Harry continued walking; he had a destination, he knew exactly where he was going, but he didn't know what he would
    find when he got there.
    He opened a dark wooden door, twisting the gold metal handle purposefully. As he entered the room, all noise inside ceased.
    About fifty people wearing black cloaks straightened their backs and looked straight ahead at Harry. He stood in the middle
    of the room, a sinister grin slipping across his face. He spoke, but the cold voice was not his own.
    "Tonight we strike," he said dramatically. "Tonight, it will happen. They think we know nothing, they think we are so naive
    that we will not have noticed that the Potter boy is gone... They are wrong. It will happen... it will happen... it will
    happen tonight..."
    The words repeated themselves over and over, and Harry awoke suddenly. He placed his hand over his sweaty brow; his scar was
    throbbing painfully. He closed his eyes again, trying to remember his dream. _It will happen tonight_. The words popped
    into his head. Harry struggled to remember more, but he couldn't. A house... lots of rooms... a dark wooden door... It was
    all slipping away now. Tiredly, Harry laid his head back down on the pillow and fell asleep again.
    *************
    "Harry!" Someone was calling his name from the hallway. Groggily, he struggled to sit up in bed.
    "Come in," he mumbled, fumbling for his glasses. As he put them on, he saw Rachel enter his room.
    "Did you have a nice nap?" she asked sarcastically, laughing. "You've been asleep for hours!"
    "Really?" Harry asked sheepishly. Rachel nodded.
    "That's okay though, I have a feeling we'll be up late. I thought we could go to Selva tonight... it's a discoteque in Valle
    de Horizonte, the wizarding section of Madrid. It would be fun!"
    "I've never really been to one before," Harry said lamely. "You know the Dursleys, they never really let me out of the house..."
    "Even more reason to go! Do you want to? Please?" she asked pleadingly. Harry shrugged.
    "Sure, why not," he replied. Rachel grinned.
    "It'll be great! I promise," she assured him. "We'll go after dinner."
    "Sounds cool," Harry said, smiling. Rachel left and Harry pulled out some of his summer homework. _I've got a few hours
    to kill, might as well get this done,_ he thought himself sighing. With N.E.W.T.s approaching, the incoming seventh years
    had more homework over their summer holiday than ever before. Harry shuffled through his schoolwork, finally pulling out an
    essay assignment from Transfiguration. "Explain, in detail, the wand motions and correct incantations to perform a
    Conjuring Spell." He picked up his quill and began to write.
    ***************
    By the time they ate dinner, Harry was starving. He enjoyed the soup that was served, but the main course - chicken covered
    in some kind of green sauce - wasn't quite as appealing. He claimed to be not hungry even as his stomach was rumbling.
    Rachel, on the other hand, thoroughly enjoyed dinner. Harry felt a bit left out as the rest of the family chatted happily in
    Spanish, only talking to him for a few minutes at a time. Instead of talking, he studied Rachel - she had come downstairs
    for dinner dressed and ready for a night out. Her hair, which had been in braids earlier, was let loose and now fell over her
    shoulders in long twisted strands. She wore a tight red tank top and a ruffled red skirt that fell just above her knee, along
    with what Harry thought were ridiculously high shoes. However, he did have to admit that she looked gorgeous. Her giggle broke
    his train of thought.
    "Stop staring," she whispered, winking at him. He blushed furiously, looking down at his green chicken, which still did not
    look very good.
    "I think I'll go get ready," Harry mumbled, excusing himself from the table. He walked up the stairs and stared at his trunk
    full of clothes. _What the hell am I supposed to wear?_ he wondered to himself. Pushing aside his school robes, he saw
    the brilliant green cloak that he had bought yesterday at the market. He slipped it on and examined himself in the mirror.
    _This should work,_ he thought, grinning. Rachel knocked on his door.
    "Are you ready, Harry?" she called from the other side. He opened the door.
    "Yes, I think so," he replied. They walked down the stairs together. As they reached the bottom, Aunt Isabel cast a disapproving
    glance at Rachel.
    "Raquel, no me gusta esos zapatos... ¡Son rediculosos!" she said, staring at the high heeled shoes. Rachel simply rolled
    her eyes.
    "Adios, tía," she said, waving goodbye. Harry followed behind her as they walked outside to the front porch.
    "How are we getting there?" he asked, a bit confused. Rachel smiled.
    "We'll apparate, of course! Now that we can, why not use it?" she asked. Harry grinned.
    "Sounds great to me." They closed their eyes, and Harry grabbed Rachel's hand; he wasn't sure exactly where they were going,
    so he thought it would be better for her to guide him. They appeared with a "pop!" in the middle of the brick street, which
    was now filled with lighted signs and tons of people. Harry was amazed at the sight; it was nearly 11:00 pm.
    "I can't believe there's really this many people out at this hour!" he exclaimed. Rachel simply laughed.
    "Of course, silly! Most of these places have only been open for an hour or so. Here in Spain, we party late!" Harry laughed.
    They strolled together down the street, passing a few pubs. They reached a brightly lit building with neon signs outside
    depicting jungle animals and a blue sign overhead that read "La Selva". Loud music was blaring from inside.
    "Let's go!" Rachel cried excitedly, dragging him inside. By the time they reached the dance floor, Rachel was practically
    giddy with excitement. "Oooh, isn't this fun?" she asked.
    "Mmmhmm... fun..." Harry mumbled, looking around. Everyone was dancing happily to the beat of the music. Rachel wanted to
    dance as well; at first, Harry was a bit reluctant, but he soon realized that there were so many people inside that no one
    could really see him dancing.
    "I need a break, did you want to sit down?" Rachel asked after a while. Harry readily agreed. The couple made their way over
    to some tables on the far side of the room.
    "Did you want something to drink?" he asked Rachel.
    "Sure!" she replied. "Oh, and just to let you know... we're a bit different than England with the whole alcoholic drinking
    thing... there really aren't age restrictions for drinking. I've been drinking wine since I was about 12. Not that that matters
    anymore, since we're of legal age now," she said laughing. Harry gulped.
    "I've never drank before," he said nervously. Rachel waved her hand impatiently.
    "Oh, it's not such a big deal, not like what they make it out to be. C'mon, let's go up to the bar, I'll come with you."
    "Maybe I should just have Butterbeer-"
    "Harry Potter! You're of age! There's nothing wrong with having something to drink." Rachel crossed her arms.
    "Okay, okay," he said, giving up. They walked up to the bar and Rachel ordered.
    "Dos sangrias, por favor," she said to the bartender as Harry passed him some money. The man gave them two glasses and
    Rachel handed one to Harry. "This is delicious," she told him, taking a sip. "Plus, it's chilled, so it's so nice in the
    summer when it's hot outside." Harry tasted his. "How is it?" Rachel asked.
    "Not bad," he admitted. She was right; the cold drink made the heat of the discoteque a lot more bearable. They returned to
    their table and chatted while they finished their drinks. Harry began to notice that it took just a little more energy than
    normal for his eyes to focus on things. When they returned to the dance floor, he found it much easier to dance. "This is
    great!" he yelled over the music to Rachel.
    "I told you you'd enjoy it!" she yelled back. The night continued with more dancing and drinking, until about 2 AM when Harry
    no longer had the energy to return to the dance floor.
    "Let's go get a snack or something, I'm hungry," Rachel complained. Harry readily agreed; his lack of dinner was really
    bothering him by now. They strolled together down the street, trying to pick a restaurant to enter. Harry was surprised
    they were still open, but Rachel just shrugged. "They always are," she answered, scrutinizing a dingy pub in front of them.
    "This one looks a bit dodgy, huh? Maybe that one..." she trailed off, pointing to another building about a block away. As
    they began to walk, they heard someone calling their names behind them.
    "Rachel! Harry!" Together, they spun around to see a figure with long dark hair making its way toward them.
    "Ana?" Rachel asked incredulously. Rachel's cousin Adriana approached, panting from exhaustion.
    "I've been looking all over for you!" she cried. Rachel looked confused.
    "But why?" she asked.
    "Attack... down on Calle de Valiente... hurry... get out..." She stopped talking and took a deep breath.
    "What's going on?" Harry asked, glancing around them as fear flashed in his eyes. Adriana seemed to have finally caught her
    breath.
    "No time to explain that, all three of us need to join hands. NOW!" she cried, glancing nervously behind her. Rachel and
    Harry did as they were told. "On the count of three, apparate back to the house. One, two, three!" The world around them
    disappeared and Harry landed unsteadily in Rachel's front yard. Adriana hustled them inside and shut the door, locking it
    tight. "Dios mio," she breathed softly, holding a hand over her heart.
    "What happened?" Rachel demanded.
    "Quiet down, you don't want to wake anyone," Adriana hissed. She took a deep breath. "There was a Death Eater attack on the
    discoteque just a block down from where you were. La Selva, do you know where that is?" Rachel and Harry looked at one another,
    eyes wide.
    "We were there," Rachel whispered. "About ten minutes before you found us..." Adriana groaned.
    "You got so lucky. So did I, for that matter, the Order would've skinned me alive for letting you out of my sight-"
    "The Order?" Harry interrupted. "How do you know about the Order?" Adriana sighed.
    "I'm an Auror for the Spanish ministry. They needed someone to watch you Harry, someone who wouldn't be too obvious...
    Dumbledore contacted me, and I joined the Order."
    "So you've been trailing me since I got here?" he asked angrily. Adriana simply nodded.
    "That was a close one... too close, if you ask me. I'm sure Dumbledore will be taking you away tonight," Adriana said wearily.
    "What?" Harry cried. "I don't want to leave. I'm of age now, I can make my own decisions, I'll stay if I want-"
    "We'll see what Dumbledore says," Adriana said harshly, interrupting him. "The Dark Lord knows where you are. It is no
    longer safe for you here."
    ************************
    

Next Chapter 


	5. Chapter 5


    **Chapter 5: Harry's Return
    ~@+~@+~@+~@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions." (William Shakespeare, Hamlet, IV:5)
    **~@+~@+~@+~@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    As Dumbledore arrived at Rachel's house, Harry sat stubbornly in the corner, his arms crossed. Rachel had gone upstairs.
    Adriana and Dumbledore were having a whispered conversation in the kitchen; Harry knew he could overhear them if he tried,
    but he didn't even care anymore.
    _All I wanted was to spend a week away from this sort of thing... just take a bit of a vacation... but no, Voldemort can't
    even stay out of my life for that long!_ Harry thought angrily. _Why me? Why does it always have to be me?_ He hit
    the wall with his fist with such force that he nearly knocked himself off of the chair he was sitting in. He held onto the
    seat, swaying unsteadily.
    "What was that?" Adriana asked, rushing into the room with Dumbledore by her side.
    "I'm not leaving," Harry hissed through gritted teeth. Dumbledore looked at him sympathetically.
    "Harry, please calm down. The Order must act in what we believe is your best interest, and at this time, that includes leaving
    Spain. Please go upstairs, pack your things, say goodbye to Rachel, and come back down quickly so that we may leave." Dumbledore
    studied him carefully, but Harry simply left his chair and stomped upstairs. He didn't even care about waking Rachel's family
    any longer. As he opened his bedroom door, Rachel flew at him from inside, hugging him tightly.
    "Harry, what if something would have happened? They knew we were there... they only missed us by a few minutes. Oh, Harry..."
    She broke down sobbing. Harry felt guilt creeping up in his chest.
    "Rach, it's okay. Nothing happened. It's going to be fine." He patted her back comfortingly. She looked up at him, tears still
    in her eyes, and nodded. "But Dumbledore wants me to leave now. So I'm supposed to pack," he said, glancing around the room.
    "I'll help," Rachel volunteered. Together, they managed to pile together all of Harry's belongings. "What's this?" Rachel
    asked from over by the dresser. She was holding up a thin gold chain with several charms. Harry took it from her as he smiled.
    "It's a long story... I promise I'll tell you the next time I see you." He looked deep into her eyes. "I'm sorry I have to
    leave," he whispered.
    "No, don't be sorry. You need to be safe," she replied, hugging him again. "I guess I'll see you at school, then?" Harry nodded,
    fighting back the lump in his throat.
    "Bye, Rach," he said gruffly, kissing her tenderly. Together, they picked up Harry's things and headed downstairs. Adriana had
    left, but Dumbledore was still waiting, holding a teacup that Harry assumed was most likely a port key.
    "What about Dobby?" Harry asked suddenly.
    "He's already there," Dumbledore answered. Harry sighed.
    "Is that a port key?" he asked. Dumbledore nodded. "I can apparate now, you know," he said haughtily. A smile crept over
    Dumbledore's face.
    "That's a long way to apparate for someone who just got licensed yesterday. Especially someone who is intoxicated," he replied.
    Harry blushed, staring at the teacup.
    "Fine then. Let's go." He held a finger up to the teacup, and his surroundings swirled away as he was pulled away from
    Rachel's warm, clean kitchen to the cold stone floor of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
    "Take your things upstairs quietly," Dumbledore whispered to Harry. "No use in waking everyone at this hour." Harry nodded
    and tried to take his trunk upstairs without making a noise; however, it thumped softly with every step he dragged it up. He
    finally reached the room that he and Ron had shared for the past two years. He was surprised to see a light on inside.
    "Ron?" he whispered uncertainly as he pushed the creaking door open gently.
    "Harry!" Ron whispered back excitedly. "Good to see you, mate!"
    "How come you're still up?" Harry asked, pushing his trunk across the room.
    "Knew you were coming," he said, grinning. "First Hedwig shows up, then Dobby appears about ten minutes ago. I figured they were
    sending you over tonight."
    "Yeah," Harry grunted.
    "So did you take your apparition test yet? Did you apparate here?" he asked.
    "Yes, I took it and I passed, no, I didn't apparate here because Dumbledore wouldn't let me," Harry complained, stumbling over
    to his bed.
    "Why no- Harry, are you okay?" Ron asked, examining him carefully. His eyes widened in realization. "Mate, are you drunk?" he
    asked incredulously.
    "Slightly. I was at this discoteque with Rachel in Madrid and we were just dancing and stuff, and then we decided to go get something
    to eat, but then her cousin came up and told us there was a Death Eater attack in the building we were just in-"
    "Blimey!" Ron cried, forgetting to lower his voice. "So that's why you're here in the middle of the night, huh? I thought maybe
    they just did it as a sort of cover-up thing." Harry was feeling very sleepy now; he just nodded. "I can't believe you're allowed
    to drink, I tried to get my mum to let me go out with Fred and George one night but she said no." Harry laughed. _What do you
    mean I'm allowed to drink, there's no one there to tell me not to,_ Harry thought mournfully.
    "Goodnight, Ron," he said, falling into a deep slumber almost instantaneously.
    ********************
    Harry didn't feel very well the next morning but he tried to ignore it. Ron was gone from his bed; Harry figured he must be
    downstairs eating breakfast. Though he didn't quite feel hungry, he decided to go downstairs also and join them. He was so tired
    he didn't even change out of his pajamas. As he walked down the hallway, he noticed that the decor had changed significantly
    since he had last been at Number 12 Grimmauld; the mounted heads of the house-elves no longer lined the halls and the
    walls and ceiling had been painted bright, cheery colors instead of the drab gray and brown. As Harry descended the stairs,
    he noticed the portrait of Mrs. Black was completely gone; the area where the picture had been was scorched and there were
    long scrapes along the wall, evidence of the struggle it must have taken to get rid of her. Harry grinned smugly at the thought
    that he would never again have to hear her screams.
    "Isn't it nice without her?" a familiar voice said from behind him. Harry turned around to see Fred (or was it George?) grinning
    at the huge marks on the wall. The other twin appeared from the kitchen area.
    "That was the work of one of our test products," George said, gesturing to the wall where the portrait had formerly hung. "We
    decided it was a little too powerful for our market, though, so we used it on her..." The three of them laughed.
    "Welcome back, Harry, how's your summer been?" Fred asked.
    "Oh, er, not bad-"
    "Nice outfit, by the way," George commented on Harry's faded pajamas. He blushed.
    "Thanks," he mumbled. "I'm just going to get a bit of breakfast." The twins nodded.
    "Catch you around, Harry!" they chorused before walking out the front door. Harry walked cautiously into the kitchen.
    "Oh, Harry, there you are!" Mrs. Weasley greeted him excitedly, pulling him into a hug. "I was wondering when you'd get up!
    Here, sit down and have something to eat!" Harry sat and looked around; Tonks, Kingsley, and a few other people he didn't know
    were all sitting at the table. He immediately looked down, embarassed to be seen in his pajamas by so many people, but they
    didn't seem to care, and they continued their conversation.
    "Where's Ron?" Harry asked as Mrs. Weasley set down a plate of eggs and toast in front of him.
    "Oh, he and Ginny have already eaten. We're still working on the house, you know; they're upstairs repainting a room. You can
    join them if you want, as soon as you eat something!" She smiled at him. Harry munched on his toast for a few minutes before
    leaving quickly. He got dressed, putting on old clothes so that he could get them dirty. and began wandering the house looking
    for Ron.
    "Ron! Hello? Ginny? Are you guys up here?" he called, walking down another hallway in the seemingly enormous house. An exhausted
    looking Ron, covered in paint, poked his head out of a doorway.
    "We're in here, mate," he called back, looking a bit disgruntled. Harry walked into the room and received a splat of paint across
    his t-shirt. He was immediately glad he had chosen to wear old clothes.
    "Oh! Harry! I'm sorry!" Ginny blushed, her skin matching her red hair. "I was aiming for Ron, really, not you!"
    "As you can see, I've already been hit several times," Ron grumbled.
    "Like you haven't been fighting back!" Ginny argued.
    "There's more paint on you two than on the walls!" Harry commented, looking around the room.
    "Yeah, we better do this soon or mum'll kill us," Ron said gloomily. "Want to help, Harry?"
    "Sure," he answered. The three teenagers spent the afternoon together and finished painting the walls of the room.
    ****************
    Mrs. Weasley made dinner early that night. It seemed very early to Harry, who had spent the last week not eating until 10 PM.
    He had enjoyed the Spanish meals, but he was glad to have Mrs. Weasley's cooking back.
    "This is delicious," he mumbled to her through a mouthful of food. She smiled.
    "Thank you, Harry. Now everyone, please hurry and eat, there's an Order meeting tonight and we've got to get you all out of
    this room soon!" Ron rolled his eyes.
    "Mum, we're of legal age now, can't we just-"
    "Ron, you know the answer to that question. Professor Dumbledore has already said that wizards or witches still in school may
    not join the Order. Now, upstairs, all of you!" Ron, Harry, and Ginny slowly retreated to their bedrooms.
    "Hermione's supposed to be coming here soon," Ron said lazily as he lie on his bed. "She sent me an owl today." He held up a
    piece of parchment.
    "Is she back from Rome or wherever she was?" Harry asked. Ron nodded.
    "Just got back yesterday. She said she was going to try to get here tonight."
    "That would be nice, it's a bit boring-" The door flew open.
    "Ron! Harry!" Hermione ran inside, attacking Ron first with a hug, before turning to Harry and doing the same to him. As she
    released Harry, she held out a Daily Prophet. "Were you anywhere near this?" she demanded, pointing to the headline. It read
    "Spanish club attacked by Death Eaters". Harry nodded as he took the paper from her and began to read.
    _Early this morning, a popular nightclub in Madrid was suddenly invaded by what seemed to be hundreds of He-Who-Must-
    Not-Be-Named's supporters, causing the deaths of 14 so far and leaving 76 injured. La Selva, a dance club frequented by teenagers
    and located in the Valle de Horizonte, the wizarding section of Madrid, Spain, held nearly 400 partiers when the attack took
    place. Death Eaters, as the followers of the Dark Lord are known, broke into the building around 2 AM and began using illegal
    dark spells against the patrons. "I was terrified," said one witness. "We didn't know what was going on." Among the spells used
    were the Cruciatus Curse and Avada Kedavra, both punishable by a life sentence in Azkaban Prison. The attack seemed random,
    as both muggle and pure-blooded wizards were killed and injured. The Spanish Ministry is currently cooperating with the Interational
    Wizarding Federation to solve this crime._
    The article wasn't over but Harry could hardly stand to read any more. He felt sick just thinking about it.
    "Rachel and I were inside there like five minutes before this happened," he told her, avoiding eye contact. Hermione gasped.
    "Harry, you need to be more careful! What if something would have happened?" she asked. Harry shrugged.
    "I'm tired of being careful. Sometimes I just want to be normal and have fun, you know?" he said defensively. Hermione gave him
    a sad smile.
    "I know, Harry. I know."
    *******************
    After Ginny had let them know that the Order meeting was over (she had been watching the door for nearly two hours), the trio
    headed downstairs again. Dumbledore noticed Harry across the room and made his way over to him.
    "Harry, could I talk to you?" he asked, smiling. He nodded and followed as Dumbledore led him into the parlor, closing
    the door behind him. "Sit down, Harry, please," he said, gesturing to the sofa. "I did not tell you this last year for several
    reasons. You were still struggling with Sirus' death, you were not yet 17, and you had a great deal of other pressures to handle.
    Now, however, I feel it is appropriate to tell you. I must inform you that you are the sole beneficiary of Sirius Black's will.
    You now have legal possession of this house, along with many other items that are listed here." He held out a list to Harry.
    "Please read this over. I know this is still hard for you, so I do not expect you to make any decisions at this time. Good
    night, Harry." With a nod and a gentle pat on the shoulder, Dumbledore left, leaving Harry alone with his confusion. Stunned,
    he stared at the piece of parchment.
    "I hadn't even thought about him having a will," he murmured, reading the list slowly. At the top, in Sirius' rounded handwriting
    that still made Harry's heart ache, was a short paragraph.
    _The following is the will of Sirius Orion Black. After my death, all of my possessions are to become the property of Mr. Harry
    James Potter as soon as he reaches the legal age to accept said inheritance. Until this time, the responsibility for ownership of
    the remaining Black property, along with the personal possessions listed below, will rest with Albus Percival Wulfric Brian
    Dumbledore. If he is unable to accept this responsibility, it will be given to Mr. Remus J. Lupin. The following list of items
    are to be given to Mr. Potter after he has reached the age of 17:
    ~~House at Number 12 Grimmauld Place
    ~~All possessions inside of the house, including:
    -Motorbike
    -All remaining furniture
    -Personal possessions upstairs
    ~~All funds inside of vault #312 at Gringott's (key enclosed)
    ~~Anything else Mr. Potter wishes to have
    Signed by witnesses,
    Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore
    Remus J. Lupin
    Nymphadora Tonks_
    Harry sighed unsteadily, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. What was he going to do with all of this?
    "I hope I'm around long enough to enjoy it all, Sirius," he whispered, thinking of the prophecy that haunted him night and
    day. The thought occured to him that most people would now consider Harry to be rich. _I'd give it all away just to be normal.
    Normal and poor, like the Weasleys, that would be perfect,_ Harry thought, wiping away a single tear.
    ****************************
    

Next Chapter 


	6. Chapter 6


    **Chapter 6: Discoveries
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."
    -Martin Luther King, Jr.
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    The next week went by fairly fast for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Life at Number 12 Grimmauld Place had improved, but a thick
    tension hung in the air. The feeling of an impending attack weighed heavily in the minds of all of the wizarding world. Harry
    had begun reading the Daily Prophet cover to cover, but there were no more reports of disturbances, nothing out of the ordinary.
    It was quiet. Too quiet.
    Harry had spent the days after his brief meeting with Dumbledore studying Sirius' will, and had finally made the decision to
    investigate the house and find some of the things that Sirius had left him. He started in the attic.
    As he pushed open the trap door at the top of the rickety flight of steps, Harry was forced into a fit of coughing as dust
    flew out at him. Apparently, this area of the house had been overlooked during Mrs. Weasley's cleaning sprees, he thought as he
    carefully climbed into the small room. A thick layer of dust covered everything he could see. There were several bookshelves
    filled completely with hefty tomes, piles of boxes, and a few sheet-covered objects, which Harry guessed to be old furniture.
    Harry began rummaging through a few of the boxes; some contained dark objects like they had found during earlier cleanings, one
    was full of old dishes with the Black family crest, another held Christmas ornaments. Harry discovered a box that was filled
    completely with photos; some were black and white, prominently displaying haughty-looking Black family members, others were
    more recent, and many were from Sirius' days at Hogwarts - all, however, had the unique characteristic of being able to move,
    as wizarding pictures could.
    Harry pulled one of the white sheets up to reveal a formal-looking red parlor chair. He sat down in it, pulling some of the
    pictures towards him, and began browsing through them. He had gotten about halfway through looking at all of the pictures when
    he heard someone below him calling his name.
    "Harry? Harry, are you up here?" A female voice yelled from below.
    "I'm in the attic," he called back, not looking up from the photo he was holding. He heard footsteps pounding up the staircase
    and saw Ginny's shock of red wavy hair as she appeared from the small trapdoor. She was coughing uncontrollably. "Yeah, the
    dust is really bad up here," Harry remarked, standing up. Ginny nodded, managing to stop coughing and brushing the hair out of
    her eyes.
    "I've never been up here before," she said, looking around in amazement.
    "I don't think anyone has been in about 20 years, from the looks of it," he answered.
    "Mum wanted me to tell you that dinner will be ready soon. I didn't know if I would find you though, no one's seen you in
    hours!" she exclaimed.
    "What time is it?" Harry asked curiously. Ginny glanced at her watch.
    "Nearly 5. Have you been up here all day?" she asked. Harry shrugged.
    "Yeah," he mumbled, placing the pictures back inside of the box. "There's just so much up here..." Ginny smiled sympathetically.
    "I'm sure if you need any help cleaning up here, mum'll be happy to help," she said, rolling her eyes. "You know how enthusiastic
    she's been about cleaning this house for the last few years..." Harry laughed.
    "Come on, Gin, let's go downstairs. I'm starving."
    "Sounds good to me," she answered, smiling.
    ********************
    Dinner that night was attended by almost every member of the Order of the Phoenix. Several of the aurors had completed successful
    raids that day and the mood at the dinner table was cheerful and upbeat. Harry was seated between Ron and Hestia Jones, the
    kindly witch he had met only a few times before. Because of this, he was surprised at her repeated attempts to engage him in
    conversation.
    "So, Harry, what were you up to today?" Hestia asked, helping herself to more potatoes. Harry gulped down the food that was in
    his mouth and answered.
    "I was up in the attic all day... just sorting through things, finding what's up there, you know..." He shrugged. Tonks laughed.
    "I bet that's a sight," she remarked sarcastically. "It was a mess when people still lived here, and now it's been untouched
    for who knows how long..."
    "That's what it looked like to me," Harry said. "Everything's full of dust. Ginny and I about died coughing." A group of people
    around them had begun listening, and laughed at this.
    "I expect you'll be wanting to ride the motorbike now, too?" Tonks asked excitedly. Harry grinned.
    "Yeah, that'd be great, but I don't even know where it is. I expect it's in the cellar, but I haven't had time to look down
    there yet."
    "I'll show you as soon as dinner's over, I know exactly where it is," Tonks told him, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "It's
    quite old, but I'm sure it still runs well."
    "A motorbike? Isn't that dangerous for a boy so young?" Hestia asked, looking concerned.
    "I agree," Mrs. Weasley said, worry etched into her face. Harry's heart sank.
    "Nonsense." Kingsley Shaklebolt's voice boomed across the table. "I learned to ride a motorbike when I was 14. It's not
    dangerous at all, I'm sure Harry'll do fine. Besides, he's of legal age now, you can't stop him!" Harry grinned at Kingsley.
    "Thanks", he mouthed to him. Kingsley winked.
    "No problem," he mouthed back.
    ********************
    Harry could hardly keep from jumping up and down with excitement as Tonks led him through the dark and dingy basement of Number
    12 Grimmauld Place.
    "I think it's right over- oops!" she cried, knocking over a box that fell to the ground with a shattering of glass. "Hmmm, I don't
    think I'm even going to look at what was inside of that... Anyway, the bike is right back here, in this room." She pointed to
    a door a few feet away. Harry opened the door impatiently and Tonks switched on the light. An object stood in the middle of
    the room, covered in a white sheet. "Well, go ahead, uncover it!" Tonks instructed Harry. He pulled the sheet off and inhaled
    sharply.
    "It's beautiful," Harry breathed gently.
    "It's in great shape for being so old," Tonks agreed, tapping on the silver trim. "It looks as though it's been polished... I'm
    sure that was one of the first things Sirius did when he got back here. He was obsessed with this thing..." Harry was hardly
    listening. The bike seemed to glow; it held all of the freedom and maturity that Harry longed for. He ran his hands along its
    side, then studied the many gauges on the front of the bike.
    "When can I ride it?" Harry asked enthusiastically. Tonks pursed her lips, looking thoughtful.
    "Well, we'll have to have someone teach you... You don't really need a driver's license, as long as you stay away from muggle
    areas... You're not old enough to drive it according to the muggles, but they're really not popular with wizards, so we don't
    have as many restrictions."
    "Great," he replied, grinning. He rushed upstairs to tell Ron about his new possession, climbing the flights of stairs two
    at a time. By the time he reached his and Ron's room, he was out of breath.
    "So?" Ron asked expectantly, looking almost as excited as Harry felt.
    "It's... amazing... I can't wait... to ride it..." Harry panted, trying to catch his breath.
    "You'll have to take me!" Ron cried, looking a bit sad.
    "Did you get chased upstairs by a herd of angry hippogriffs, Harry?" Hermione asked sarcastically. "It sounds like it, to listen
    to you!" Harry sensed her mocking tone and had a feeling that she probably wasn't as happy about the motorbike as he and Ron
    were.
    "Blimey, Hermione, I bet it's amazing!" Ron argued, looking scandalized that she would show any opposition. "This is the coolest
    thing ever!" Dobby appeared with a soft popping noise next to Harry as the Ron and Hermione argument continued.
    "Is you needing a drink, Master Harry? You is looking thirsty!" he squeaked.
    "Sure," Harry answered, waving his hand carelessly in the air. "Water's fine." Hermione was eyeing Harry with narrowed eyes.
    "What?" Ron asked, picking up on the odd tension in the room as he glanced back and forth between Hermione and Harry.
    "So you have a house-elf now, Harry?" Hermione asked dangerously. Harry gulped, looking at Ron for support.
    "Er... well... he just sort of showed up, I think the Order wanted someone who would watch over me, you know..." he stuttered.
    _Damn it, I forgot all about Hermione's S.P.E.W. stuff_, Harry thought worriedly.
    "Well that makes sense. But when did they give you permission to order him around like he's your slave? Hmm?" Now her hands
    were on her hips and she was looking even more angry.
    "Hermione, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
    "Well, you should watch how you're acting," she snapped, storming out of the room. Harry sighed, collapsing onto his bed.
    "Sorry mate," Ron sighed. "You know how she is about house-elves..."
    "Yeah, I know," Harry muttered. Dobby appeared with a glass of water and Harry felt a pang of guilt in his chest. "Thank you
    Dobby," he said gratefully. He sat up in his bed, feeling uncomfortable in the situation. "Er... Dobby... I'm not treating you
    badly, am I? I mean, did you want to be paid or anything, because if you do, that's fine-"
    "Oh, no, sir," Dobby answered, shaking his head decisively. "You is much better than the Malfoys! Dobby is already getting
    paying... I mean, umm..." He looked around nervously. "Bad Dobby!" he cried, running head first into the wall. Harry ran after
    him and pulled him back. "Thank you, Master Harry," Dobby whispered.
    "Who's paying you? The Order?" Harry asked wearily. Dobby nodded.
    "You isn't supposed to know that, Harry Potter," Dobby said, still whispering. Harry shrugged.
    "I figured as much. They're always sending people after me to make sure I'm being safe. Well, at least that's one thing I can
    tell Hermione," he said, laying back on his bed. "Maybe she won't be quite as mad at me if she knows Dobby's getting paid," he
    told Ron.
    "Then Harry Potter shouldn't tell her about Winky. She is here, but she is not getting paid. She says paying is disgraceful to
    a house-elf." Dobby looked up at them with his tennis-ball sized eyes.
    "Winky's here?" Ron asked, surprised. "I've been here all summer and I haven't seen her!" Dobby smiled.
    "You isn't supposed to see house-elves, Mr. Weasley. They is supposed to be invisible to their masters." He nodded to them and
    disappeared.
    "What a weird night," Harry said, closing his eyes as he leaned back onto his pillow.
    *******************
    Hermione was still sore at Harry the next day, only talking to him when she had to. Ron and Harry had not told her about Winky
    living at Number 12, but she found out nonetheless the next day when she spied Winky tending to the fire in the parlor upstairs.
    "Winky!" she exclaimed. "I didn't know you were here." Harry and Ron exchanged an uneasy glance; last time Hermione had a
    conversation with Winky, she had ended up even more upset.
    "Oh, hello miss, sirs," Winky greeted them nervously. Unlike the last time the trio had seen her, Winky was now dressed in
    a white blouse and a simple black skirt which were both clean and looked new. Her appearance was no longer unkept and she
    looked almost happy.
    "Why're you here?" Hermione asked kindly.
    "Master Dumbledore asked me to come after the old house-elf left. House-elves is not supposed to leave their houses," she said
    harshly, looking angry. Harry assumed she was referring to Kreacher.
    "I'm sure you'll be better than the old one," Harry muttered. Winky grinned at him, but Hermione looked mad.
    "Thank you, sir!" Winky said with a smile as she left.
    "Harry, Kreacher was only mean because of all he had to go through! Now, if he would have started out with a normal family,
    being paid and having vacations and weekends off-"
    Fortunately, Hermione's house-elf rant was cut off by a sharp tap on the window. Harry looked outside to see several formidable
    looking barn owls - he had never been happier to receive his Hogwart's letter. From the expression on Ron's face, it appeared
    that he felt the same way. Ron ran over to the window and opened it; the owls swooped inside, dropping off letters for the
    three of them, while a fourth owl flew out of the room to find Ginny. Harry tore his open immediately, throwing aside his
    list of books. He picked up the first piece of parchment inside and read it.
    _Dear Mr. Potter,
    Because of your mounting responsibilities and because of Gryffindor's dismal performance last
    year during the Quidditch season, you have been relieved of your captain duties. I hope that
    you can accept my decision gracefully. You will remain seeker and have all other privileges
    as a team member. I have chosen another captain who I hope will have more time to put into our
    team.
    On another note, I am delighted to tell you that the Headmaster has chosen you to be Head Boy.
    Please understand that this responsibility is very important and would be almost impossible to
    undertake if you were Quidditch captain also. I hope you understand that the situation had to
    be remedied in this manner. If you have any questions, please contact me. Enjoy your summer
    holiday.
    Sincerely,
    Professor McGonagall_
    Harry stared at the letter in his hand, his mouth hanging open. The anger that he had felt when he had read the first paragraph
    was quickly being replaced; he understood, as he would not have only a year ago, that some decisions are hard to make and
    that Professor McGonagall had to choose between him being captain or Head Boy. He understood that he couldn't do both. However,
    that still didn't take away the shock. _I'm Head Boy,_ he thought giddily, putting a hand to his forehead. He looked up
    at Ron and Hermione, both of whom had similar expressions on their faces.
    "I'm Head Boy," he mumbled, still staring at the letter. Hermione shrieked.
    "I'm Head Girl!" she screamed, running over and throwing her arms around Harry. "Harry, this is great! This year is going to
    be so much fun!"
    "I'm Quidditch team captain," Ron whispered, looking at his letter as if it were a dangerous disease. "But how... I thought
    that you were...." he stuttered, glancing nervously at Harry.
    "Yeah... I guess McGonagall didn't want me doing both. She said so in my letter," Harry answered, gesturing to the parchment
    he was holding in his hand. "It's okay, really!" he told Ron, answering his unasked question. Ron grinned.
    "Hermione's right.. this is going to be the best year ever!"
    **************
    Harry went to bed that night feeling satisfied. He was slightly disappointed that he was no longer Quidditch captain, but he
    was excited to be Head Boy and happy for Ron. He closed his eyes and pulled his blankets closer around him. He was warm and
    comfortable and happy for once. _How long can this last, with everything being perfect?_ he wondered before falling asleep.
    Harry found himself inside of a white room. It was completely empty and devoid of all color. He turned and saw a woman behind
    him with beautiful dark hair and sable sparkling eyes. She was dressed in what Harry thought looked like an old-fashioned outfit;
    her dark crimson dress fell to the floor, its full skirt billowing out across her feet. She smiled gloriously at Harry.
    "So pleased to meet you, Harry Potter," she said, holding out a hand. Harry stared at it, confused.
    "Is this a dream?" he asked her. She simply smiled, lowering her hand gently.
    "If you wish to call it that," she said. "It isn't important whether this is a dream or not. The important part is this: you
    know about your prophecy. You know what your destiny is. You must stop Voldemort, Harry. He has acquired weapons more powerful
    than ever before. You must stop him, Harry. Stop Voldemort...." Her words trailed off and the scene swirled in front of his
    eyes. Harry awoke suddenly, his heart racing. _Who was that? What did she mean? What weapons?_ he asked himself, his
    mind turning a million miles an hour. _What's going on?_
    *************
    

Next Chapter 


	7. Chapter 7


    **Chapter 7: Trouble in the Ministry
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."
    -Edmund Burke
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    Harry awoke the next morning still feeling confused. Unlike his past dreams, which he often forgot as a result of his Occlumency
    training, he remembered the dark-haired woman vividly. Her volumous red dress, her sparkling eyes, her silky black hair... he
    shook his head, trying to figure it all out. Maybe she was something his mind had made up. Maybe she was something created by
    Voldemort to break into his mind. _I'm overanalyzing this,_ he thought, brushing aside his worries. He headed downstairs
    for some breakfast. Hermione and Ron were already there, chatting over their toast and eggs. Harry gave Hermione a weak smile,
    which was not returned. _Still mad at me about the house-elf thing, I guess..._ Harry poked at his food, not feeling
    hungry.
    "I thought you kids could go into Diagon Alley today, how does that sound?" Mrs. Weasley asked, bringing more food over to the
    table.
    "Tha's fihm, muhm," Ron said, his voice muffled through a mouthful of toast. Ginny sat down next to him.
    "I'm sure your girlfriend finds that very attractive, Ron," she said, just loud enough for Hermione and Harry to hear also.
    Harry laughed and Hermione just rolled her eyes.
    "Sorry," Ron grunted, blushing deep red. Ginny turned her attention to Hermione.
    "Any new prophecies, Hermione?" she asked in a business-like manner. Harry had been wondering the same thing, but after the
    house-elf fight, he decided it would be best to keep his mouth shut. Hermione shrugged.
    "No. Although I think that Parvati and Lavendar are quite jealous, you know how much they adore Divination..." She sighed.
    "Not like it's something you asked for," Harry said comfortingly, trying to get on Hermione's good side again. She nodded.
    "I know. But try telling them that."
    ******************
    The trio spent the afternoon in what used to be a formal living room but had been transformed into a comfortable den. Hermione
    had dragged out all of her old textbooks and she, Ron, and Harry practiced charms and curses using their newly acquired ability
    to do magic outside of school. After a few hours, and after having been the subject of several stunning spells, Ron collapsed
    onto a plump armchair.
    "When I turned 17, I never thought the magic I would do outside of school would just be homework," he whined, crossing his
    arms. "Can't we do something else?"
    "Like what, Ron?" Hermione asked, exasperated. "We need to work on this stuff, you know how much homework we've had over break!"
    Harry heard the door downstairs open. He wasn't surprised by this, as people came and went frequently, but he was unsettled
    by the number of voices he heard downstairs. And the urgent tone they seemed to be talking in.... Harry swiftly glanced over
    at Hermione, who was still arguing with Ron over homework.
    "Guys, quiet down," he said seriously, walking over to the door and cracking it open slightly.
    "What's going on?" Hermione whispered, looking out the door along with Harry. Ron pushed his way out of the door and peered
    over the banister of the stairs, looking down at the group who had just entered. Harry and Hermione crept up behind him, all
    of them spying on the Order members who had not yet seen the group of friends. Dumbledore, Tonks, Kingsley, Mr. Weasley, Hestia
    Jones, and a young man Harry didn't recognize were having a very serious discussion. The trio crouched on the ground, feeling
    excited to finally overhear some Order news.
    Tonks had her arm around Hestia, who seemed quite upset. Dumbledore was talking to her so quietly that Harry, Ron, and Hermione
    could not hear what he was saying. Mr. Weasley, Kingsley, and the man Harry didn't know where standing to the side, having
    a heated discussion.
    "Really, that man's off his rocker! What does he think he's doing, he's going to get us all killed!" the man with sandy brown
    hair thundered.
    "Calm down, Balin. Fudge has made stupid decisions before, this isn't his first," Mr. Weasley sighed, glancing at Hestia.
    "It's just a matter of time until it happens to all of us," Kingsley said gloomily.
    "Now, don't talk like that!" Mrs. Weasley chided, entering the room. She took Hestia's hand. "Come in the kitchen dear, I'll
    get you something to drink." Dumbledore's eyes wandered up to the top of the stairs, where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were
    crouched, watching the scene. He winked at them.
    "Why don't we head into the drawing room to discuss this further," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the left. "I'll join you
    momentarily." As the small group moved into the room, Dumbledore climbed the stairs. Glancing nervously at one another as
    they realized they had been discovered, the trio stood up shakily. Harry didn't even try to cover up the fact that they had
    been listening in on the conversation.
    "Sorry, sir," he mumbled apologetically. Dumbledore smiled.
    "There is nothing to be sorry for Harry, any mildly curious person who happens to be in the right place at the right time will
    eavesdrop on a conversation without even meaning to. I'm sure you'll learn this information soon enough, so I might as well
    tell you now." He sighed. "The relationship between the Ministry of Magic and the Order of the Phoenix has never been a strong
    one. In recent years, Minister Fudge has grown fearful of the Order's power and become paranoid that perhaps the Order would
    try to take over the government of the wizarding world."
    "That would never happen!" Ron interrupted. "Doesn't he realize you're just trying to help?"
    "Sadly, Mr. Weasley, he does not. Instead of joining forces, Fudge demands that we stay separate and has begun to dismiss
    those who associate themselves with me or the Order from the Ministry. So far, the only one fired has been Hestia Jones, but
    I am afraid that more problems will arise."
    "Why did she get fired?" Harry asked. Dumbledore smiled sadly.
    "Simply because she did not deny her participation in the Order, Harry. Now, I must leave you and discuss this with the Order
    members downstairs." He nodded politely and descended the stairs.
    "If we lose this war, it will be because of Fudge," Hermione growled. "Lucky for us all, this is an election year..."
    "Really? How does that work?" Harry asked naively. Hermione gave a short laugh.
    "Honestly, Harry, I know you grew up with muggles but so did I! I'd have thought you would have figured some of this out by
    now." She sighed. "Every six years an election takes place for the minister, as well as many of the heads of departments in
    the Ministry of Magic. We're allowed to vote, now that we're 17."
    "We can vote?" Ron asked, looking slightly interested. "Blimey, I'd never thought of that..." Hermione rolled her eyes.
    "Ron's been raised in a wizarding family with a father who works in the Ministry of Magic and he still doesn't know anything
    about politics... quite sad, if you ask me," she remarked.
    "Hey! I just don't find politics, er, interesting," he said defensively. Hermione smiled.
    "Well I find it simply fascinating," she replied.
    "Dinner's ready, you three! Mum's made steak and kidney pie!" Ginny yelled up the stairs. Ron grinned.
    "Mmm, I'm starved. Let's go!"
    "That's a surprise," Hermione mumbled playfully under her breath.
    "He's a growing boy," Harry said in a high-pitched voice, and the three of them cracked up, laughing until they entered the
    kitchen, where they quickly noticed the mood was very solemn. As they took their seats quietly, Harry observed that all of
    the people who had been in the foyer earlier had stayed for dinner. His eyes rested upon the man across from him; his sandy
    brown hair fell gracefully into his face, framing his eyes that were full of worry and unrest. The man looked vaguely familiar,
    but Harry couldn't place him. Kingsley saw Harry staring at him and smiled.
    "Balin, I don't think you've met these three. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger - this is Balin Dawlish."
    "Nice to meet you," Harry muttered, smiling a bit. Dawlish nodded to them.
    "Good to meet you all. I've just joined the Order over the summer, so I'm sure I'll be seeing you all frequently." His lips
    curved upward into what was supposed to be a smile, but the exhaustion and fear behind his eyes still was visible. A loud
    crash at the other end of the table made Harry turn his head quickly: Tonks had managed to spill a glass of pumpkin juice
    all over poor Hestia Jones.
    "Oh, don't worry, we'll have this cleaned up in no time," Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully, pulling out her wand. Hestia glanced
    up at Mrs. Weasley before bursting out in tears. "Everything's going to be fine dear, don't worry," Mrs. Weasley repeated
    sympathetically as Hestia sobbed.
    "I can't live without a job! What will my family say? How will I pay the rent? Why-" Hestia cried, wiping her tears with a
    napkin.
    "Don't worry about having a job," Dumbledore said quietly, placing his hand comfortingly on top of hers. "I have the just the
    thing for you."
    ********************
    Remus Lupin dragged his suitcase up the front steps of a gloomy-looking building. Its tattered gray walls seemed foreboding and
    the city around the structure was dirty and run-down. A creaking sign above the doorway read "Fairfax Boarding House". Remus
    took a deep breath and entered the front door. A small bell above the doorway clanged as he entered, and a shabbily-dressed
    woman hurried out. She smiled sweetly at Remus, reminding him of Molly Weasley.
    "Can I help you, dear?" she asked graciously. Remus shuffled his feet uncomfortably.
    "Well, er, actually, I was told you had an open room..." he said hesitantly.
    "Yes! Yes, of course. May I ask who you were told by?" she asked, examining him a bit suspiciously. "You're not Remus Lupin,
    are you?"
    "Yeah, actually I am," he said, very surprised. _Great, she already knows who I am. My reputation has preceded me. She'll
    never give me a room knowing I'm a werewolf..._
    "Oh, good! So pleased to meet you. Albus mentioned you might be down this way." She turned her back to him and entered the
    kitchen. "Come inside, dear, we'll get you some tea." She glanced around to make sure no one else was near. "And just to let
    you know, it isn't all magicfolk in here, we've got a few muggles too. That's my first rule, no magic outside your room. We
    don't want them asking questions, you know. Rule number two, rent is six Galleons a month, not too expensive, but as you'll
    see, there isn't much here. Rule three-"
    "So you'll take me then?" Remus asked, surprised. She smiled at him as she set down his teacup.
    "Of course! Albus has told me all about you. I'm sure you'll be a wonderful tenant. Now, as I was saying, rule three..."
    After having tea, Remus headed upstairs to his room. Gayle Fairfax, the woman who owned the building, was apparently a widow
    who ran things on her own since her husband had died in some sort of accident a few years past. Remus sat on his bed and
    surveyed the room. _It's not much, but it'll do fine,_ he thought happily. The past few months had been simply dreadful;
    he had been unable to find an apartment and was struggling to find odd jobs to have enough money to survive. He had saved up
    a little money from his job as a professor at Hogwart's last year, but that would surely be spent on rent within the next few
    months. He ran a hand through his graying hair as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He had come here to south England
    for a job interview. He hoped desperately that he could get the job; not only was it something he had wanted to do for a long
    time, but it could give him additional contacts, and he could once again become an active and helpful member of the Order of
    the Phoenix.
    *******************
    "Bloody hell, Harry, look at that one!" Ron cried in amazement, pointing at the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Harry,
    Ron, and Hermione had come to Diagon Alley to shop for school supplies, but instead Ron seemed obsessed with the new line
    of brooms that had just come out that summer. "The Inferno 4000," he whispered, putting his face up against the glass. "Merlin,
    she's a beauty-"
    "Ron, come off it! We've got to get to Flourish & Blotts," Hermione reminded him. "You can goggle at all the new brooms later."
    Ron stayed glued to the window. "Harry?" she said helplessly. Harry put a hand on Ron's shoulder and managed to wrench him
    away from the display case.
    "Come on, mate, we have to get all of this first," he said, waving his list of school books in front of Ron's eyes. Reluctanty,
    Ron followed Harry and Hermione as they passed the stationary store and arrived at Flourish & Blotts. They purchased all of
    their books; Harry and Ron only had a few, as most were the same as their books last year for their N.E.W.T. level classes.
    Hermione, on the other hand, purchased an armload of books.
    "What are you going to do with all of those?" Ron asked incredulously as they left the store and walked back out onto the street.
    "Read them, of course," Hermione answered smartly. "What else do you do with a book?"
    "I'd use it as a doorstop... or maybe for a bonfire," Ron muttered. Hermione attempted to smack him but couldn't because of the
    load in her arms. Harry stood by, laughing as he watched.
    "You can't just read textbooks all the time. A little outside reading is fun!" she insisted.
    "A little?" Ron asked. Hermione rolled her eyes.
    "Let's get sundaes," Harry said, noticing Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor just around the corner. They agreed and Hermione
    set her books on the table with a loud thump.
    "I'm hoping these will last me a while," Hermione said, glancing over the stack of books.
    "Mione, you know you'll be done with them all by next Tuesday. You're just that smart!" Ron told her. She giggled. Harry made
    a gagging noise.
    "Stop flirting you two, it's making me sick!" he said, feigning disgust. They all laughed as Mr. Fortescue came out with their
    sundaes. Harry sat back in his chair and sighed. "This is great... think they'll mind if I skip seventh year and just spend it
    in Diagon Alley eating ice cream?"
    ******************
    Harry was feeling a bit apprehensive about going to bed that night. He had not mentioned his odd dream to anyone, but he still
    remembered it vividly. He couldn't understand why he recalled this one so well when he normally forgot his dreams within a few
    hours.
    "Night, Harry," Ron mumbled, turning off the light between their beds.
    "Goodnight, Ron," Harry answered listlessly, staring at the ceiling. Sleep came to him quickly, more quickly than he had hoped
    it would....
    And there she was. The same woman, wearing the same dress, with the same expression on her face.
    "Hello, Harry," she greeted him quietly. "I hope you are taking my advice to heart. You know how powerful Voldemort is now, and
    if he can master the use of the weapons he has recently discovered, he will only be worse." Harry frowned at her.
    "What weapons? What are you talking about? Who are you?" he asked, feeling frustrated. She smiled.
    "I'm afraid that I may only answer your last question. My name is Dulcinea Rosalind Garcia."
    "This isn't real, it's just a dream," Harry said out loud. The woman looked at him, her expression stern.
    "It may be a dream, but the message is real, Harry Potter. You must stop Voldemort - and soon." Her face drifted away and Harry
    was caught again in a dark and deep slumber.
    *******************
    

Next Chapter 


	8. Chapter 8


    **Chapter 8: Year Seven
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "Most of the important things in the world have been accomplished by people who have kept on trying
    when there seemed to be no hope at all."
    -Dale Carnegie
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    The next few days flew by for Harry. The afternoons spent with Ron and Hermione were carefree enough to make him forget the
    problems the Order was having with the Ministry of Magic, but by the time dinner rolled around and all of the Order members
    came to eat, he couldn't help but be reminded of the difficulties every time he looked into their eyes. The hollow, dead look
    he saw in so many of their faces frightened him. It was a constant reminder of the terror that Harry knew was lurking just
    around the corner. _How long will it be?_ he wondered. _How long until the next attack?_
    Before Harry even knew it, September 1st was upon them. He and Ron were hurriedly packing their belongings as Mrs. Weasley
    yelled up at them from downstairs.
    "Hurry up, you two, or you'll miss the train!" she threatened, waving her hand in a flustered manner as she helped Ginny search
    the house for her missing shoe. Hermione sat at the foot of the stairs, her trunk perfectly packed in a stark contrast to
    Harry and Ron, who were clunking down the stairway with their belongings haphazardly thrown into cauldrons or backpacks. Hermione
    said nothing, only shaking her head at the mess.
    "How're we getting there?" Ron asked his mother, glancing around the foyer.
    "You'll be walking, of course. It's not that long of a walk at all, you'll be fine," she said distractedly, shoving more
    items into Ginny's knapsack. Ron groaned and readjusted his backpack, causing it to fall and its contents to spill across
    the floor.
    "Ron," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes. She waved her wand a bit and all of the books and quills magically reordered themselves
    inside of the backpack.
    "Thanks, Mione," Ron said, clearly relieved.
    "All right everyone, we're ready to go," Mrs. Weasley announced. The group headed outside, where they were met by two wizards,
    both of whom Harry recognized as Order of the Phoenix members; a gray-haired man named Elphias Dodge and a slightly drunk
    Mundungus Fletcher. Mundungus winked at Harry and pulled a flask out of his pocket, taking a quick sip of something. He walked
    a little faster than the group and ended up maintaining a ten foot distance in front of them for the entire trip, while Elphias
    Dodge stayed about ten feet behind. As Harry watched Mundungus' bowlegged gait in front of him on the sidewalk, he realized
    what they were doing. With Mrs. Weasley on one side, Mr. Weasley on the other, Mundungus in front, and Elphias in back, Harry
    was completely surrounded by members of the Order. Instead of feeling frustrated because of his overprotection, or even safe
    because of it, Harry sensed an emotion that he didn't often feel: fear. He was afraid because now he knew the risks, the danger
    that seemed to constantly surround them. He quickened his pace, silently praying that they would all make it to King's Cross
    without problems.
    He needn't have worried, as the group arrived at Platform 9 3/4 a few minutes later, having had no difficulties. Harry breathed
    an involuntary sigh of relief, and walked through the barrier just after Mundungus. The rest of the Weasleys and Elphias Dodge
    followed, and they stood off to one side chatting in the minutes before the train would leave.
    "Now Ron, make sure you're studying hard for your N.E.W.T.s, don't let this Quidditch rubbish get in the way..." Mrs. Weasley
    was shaking a finger at her youngest son, who was rolling his eyes. "Ginny, you're sure you got all of your textbooks? What
    about your History of Magic, did you get that one packed?" Mr. Weasley was patting Ron on the back and beaming.
    "Quidditch captain, I still can't believe that one, Ron! We'll have to come down for a game, I'll see if I can get away from
    work..." Harry shifted uncomfortably as he surveyed the crowd; they were getting lots of strange looks. A red-headed family,
    a frizzy-haired girl, the Boy Who Lived, an old man, and a drunken thief did attract attention. Elphias noticed this soon after
    Harry and motioned to the Weasleys.
    "Perhaps they should be boarding the train," he said softly. "It's nearly time." The group said their final goodbyes before
    hopping aboard the train with their belongings. After searching for an empty compartment, they settled for one that contained
    only Neville Longbottom. Harry, Ron, and Hermione dropped off their luggage and headed up to the prefects' compartment, leaving
    Ginny and Neville behind. Most of the other prefects were already there; Harry took a seat beside Rachel. Hermione, always
    organized and prepared, stood up.
    "Welcome back, everyone," she began. "For those of you who are fifth years and have not been prefects before, your job will be
    to watch over the younger students and make sure that they are obeying school rules. You will be doing prefect rounds once a
    week at least, during the evening hours. During these rounds we will be checking to make sure that students are in their rooms
    after curfew and that no problems are occurring in the corridors." Harry was trying to stay focused but it was hard, since he
    already knew all of this. His eyes shifted around the room, and he caught a jealous glance from Draco Malfoy, sitting in the
    corner of the compartment. As soon as Harry made eye contact with him though, Draco's eyes dropped from the shiny Head Boy
    badge and he stared down at his hands. Harry felt a tiny twinge of pride. _I made Head Boy and you didn't_, he thought
    haughtily, grinning. He realized he was supposed to be helping Hermione, or listening at least, and he tuned back into her
    speech. "...So I'll be handing out these schedules, please meet at your listed time and date for prefect rounds. If you do not
    already have a copy of the school rules, there is a list on the back, along with consequences that prefects are expected to
    give out." She looked around the compartment, smiling happily. "Any questions?" No one said anything; it seemed that most people
    had nearly drifted off, Ron included. Harry nudged Ron's leg with his toe and he stirred, blinking frantically.
    "Did I fall asleep?" he whispered worriedly. Harry fought back a smile.
    "I think so, mate, but she didn't notice." Ron breathed a sigh of relief.
    "All right then," Hermione continued. "Fifth year prefects, it is your duty to patrol the train for the first half of the
    ride; sixth years take the second half. Remember that after the feast, you must escort the younger students to their dormitories
    and give them the passwords I have told you. See you at next week's meeting!" With a smile, she sat down next to Ron.
    "Well, I think that went quite well, didn't it?" she asked Harry.
    "Perfect, Hermione. Sorry I wasn't much help," he said sheepishly.
    "Oh, no problem," she said with a wave of her hand. "We'll have loads to do this year, I'm sure you'll get to help plenty later
    on."
    "Should we be discussing Hogsmeade dates?" Ernie Macmillan asked anxiously, Hannah Abbot peering over his shoulder.
    "That sounds like a good idea," said Harry, as Rachel pulled some parchment out of her bag.
    "I've got a calendar," Pansy Parkinson chimed in from the other side of the compartment. Harry nearly jumped through the roof. All
    of the rest of the prefects were staring at her as if she were an alien that had just appeared mere feet away from them. Even
    Draco was staring at her in surprise. Pansy shrugged. "I just thought it might be easier if we knew what days were weekends, you
    know," she explained, rummaging through her bag.
    "Wonderful," Hermione said, smiling as if Pansy had always been this normal. "I was thinking some time in October for the
    first one, maybe the second weekend? How does that sound to everyone?"
    ************************
    Remus Lupin adjusted his tie nervously, fiddling with the knot as he sat in the spacious waiting room.
    "Mr. Bradley will see you now," the plump receptionist told him. Anxiously, he stood up and followed her through a long hallway.
    They stopped at the second to last door; a golden plate on the door read "Aldan Bradley". The receptionist turned and walked
    back to her desk. Remus knocked lightly on the door.
    "Come in," a voice from inside said. Remus entered and saw a man about his age, with dark hair and wire-rimmed glasses, shuffling
    a stack of papers. "You must be Remus Lupin. Welcome," the man greeted him, smiling as he held out his hand. "Please, have a
    seat."
    "Thank you," Remus murmured. Aldan Bradley once again shuffled the stack of papers and pulled one out.
    "Remus Lupin," he said thoughtfully. "Let's see here... several muggle jobs... a bartender, hmm... and Professor of Defense
    Against the Dark Arts at Hogwart's, of course." Bradley looked up with interest. "The cursed position, as I have heard. My
    son is in Ravenclaw; perhaps you remember him?"
    "Bradley... oh, Conan Bradley! Yes, quite an intelligent young man. And a Quidditch player too, isn't he?" Remus asked. Aldan
    Bradley's chest swelled with pride.
    "Chaser for the Ravenclaw team," he said proudly. "But, on with the interview. Why are you interested in this position?"
    "Well, I think it's simply a wonderful idea, and I love being a teacher..." They chatted for a few more minutes.
    "Mr. Lupin, let me explain why I thought this was a good idea. A firm education is necessary for a successful future, as most
    of us know. Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is an excellent school, but most wizards and witches could use more
    instruction even after their first seven years. My institution will be like a muggle university, in a way. We'll be the only
    one in the world! So far, we have an auror training program, programs for Care of Magical Creatures, curse breaking courses,
    and classes for future Hit Wizards, as well as a program for Mediwizards and Healers. We have been certified in all of these
    areas and are hoping to expand into a few other fields, as well."
    "It sounds amazing," Remus said quietly. Aldan Bradley looked down at the sheet of paper in front of him, reading it again
    carefully.
    "Mr. Lupin, we are looking to bring a great deal of diversity to our school. In what way could you do this?" he asked. He looked
    at the paper again, frowning. "And why did you leave Hogwart's? It doesn't say..." Remus took a deep breath. _It's now or
    never,_ he told himself.
    "The answer to both of those questions is the same. I am a werewolf."
    ************************
    Harry, Ron, and Hermione got off of the train and walked into the pouring rain outside. The train ride had been quite uneventful;
    they had chosen a few weekends for Hogsmeade trips and had discussed future prefect meetings. Harry could hear Hagrid's voice
    in the distance.
    "Firs' years, this way!"
    Harry noticed Ron staring at the carriages in front of them, his eyes wide as if in a trance.
    "Ron?" Harry asked, waving a hand in front of his eyes. "Come on mate, let's get inside before we get even more drenched." Ron
    nodded, obviously distracted, and followed Harry and Hermione into the nearest carriage. Harry noticed him staring in horror at...
    "The thestrals," he breathed. "Ron, you can see them?" Ron nodded.
    "Adele," he murmured sadly, giving no other explanation. Harry didn't need one. He simply climbed into the carriage after
    his friends.
    ***********************
    As they arrived at the school, Harry remembered that this would be the first sorting he had seen in years. Something always
    seemed to come up, but this time, he told himself, he would enjoy it. _The last sorting I'll see,_ he thought, feeling
    a bit sad. He seated himself at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall and waited for the First Years to appear. They came
    within a few minutes, assembling into a line as they stood cold and shivering, looking terrified. Professor McGonagall came
    forward and placed the Sorting Hat on a stool. As its brim opened and it broke out in song, some of the First Years gasped.
    _Muggle borns,_ Harry thought, leaning forward to listen to the song.
    _Welcome to another year
    At Hogwart's, grand and proud.
    All you first years, do not fear
    The challenges that surround.
    The sorting hat can read your mind
    And knows your character true;
    So put me on your head to find
    The house that's right for you.
    In bold Gryffindor dwell the brave of heart;
    For sweet Hufflepuff, the workers -
    In Ravenclaw, you'll find those who are smart,
    For Slytherin, the ambitious.
    But as I have said in the past
    And will continue to inform you:
    The good in the world will not long last
    If division creeps among you.
    Do not allow the petty fights
    To destroy the lives of many;
    Or all the days will be dark as nights
    And suffering will be plenty.
    Please listen to this plea I make
    Let it stay with you all year long.
    Separation into houses is a mistake -
    That's why I sing this song._
    "Another warning," Hermione sighed. "It's right, you know." Ron snorted in disgust as "Arabel, Diana" was called.
    "You know we'll never be friends with the Slytherins, Hermione. It will just never work. Don't even try to fight it," Ron said
    determinedly, staring daggers at the Slytherin table. Hermione glared at him.
    "You'd be wise to take its advice, Ron. Didn't you see Pansy Parkinson on the train today? She was being so sweet," she retorted.
    "That was very odd," Harry commented.
    "She's up to something!" Ron hissed. "You really think a Slytherin can change?"
    "Marrion, Andre," McGonagall called, as a short boy with dark hair climbed up on the stool.
    "SLYTHERIN!" yelled the hat as soon as it touched his head. Ron shuddered.
    "There's another one," he muttered quietly, so that Hermione couldn't hear him. The sorting ended soon afterwards and Professor
    Dumbledore stood.
    "Welcome back, students, to another year at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As you know well by now, you are living
    in a time full of dark magic. Please be on the lookout for anything suspicious and report it to a prefect or to the Head Boy or
    Girl." He paused. "This year's Head Boy and Girl are Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Please stand." Hermione and Harry
    stood, Hermione looking proud and Harry blushing a bit. He ducked back into his seat as soon as possible. "On a lighter note,
    Quidditch try-outs will take place in two weeks; please watch the bulletin boards in your common rooms for more information.
    If you have any questions about what is forbidden in the hallways of Hogwart's, Mr. Filch has posted a list containing more than
    500 items, including all products sold at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes." Harry grinned at Ron.
    "You wouldn't believe how well business is doing for them," Ron whispered. "It's bloody amazing."
    "Finally, I wish to say to you all, have a wonderful term! Tuck in and let the feast begin!" The food appeared on the tables
    and the students dug in hungrily. Harry ate as fast as possible; he was exhausted and he couldn't wait to get up to his new
    room. The prefects escorted the younger students up to their dormitories after they were done eating, with Harry and Hermione
    in the lead.
    "Hermione, what is our password?" Harry asked curiously. She looked at him, a shocked expression on her face.
    "Weren't you listening during my speech?" she asked, slightly hurt.
    "Oh, er, of course! I seem to have forgotten, though..." Harry trailed off. Ron stood by his side, looking worried; he knew he
    had been asleep during that part of the speech as well.
    "It's Elysium," she said shortly, appearing to be a little angry. "Ah, here we are! Elysium," she told the Fat Lady, and the
    doorway swung open. "Did you hear that everyone?" she called back to the students behind her. "The password is 'Elysium'".
    "They got it Mione, I'm sure they'll be fine," Ron said with a careless wave of his hand. "Now let's go upstairs and see your
    new rooms!" He seemed almost more excited than Harry was.
    "Sure," Harry said, shrugging. They followed a small spiral staircase just to the left of the entrance to the common room and
    found themselves in what appeared to be another common room. "What is this?" Harry asked incredulously.
    "It's like your own private common room," Ron said jealously. "Can you believe it, Hermione?"
    "It's beautiful! And perfect for studying - it'll be nice and quiet up here," she commented, surveying the squashy armchairs.
    She wandered off towards a door which read "Head Girl".
    "So this must be mine," Harry stated, staring at the plaque that said "Head Boy".
    "Go in, mate!" Ron urged him. Harry took a deep breath and walked inside. He stared in shock at the exquisite room. "Whoa," Ron
    breathed quietly behind him. "This is amazing!" The furniture was all made of a dark, highly polished wood and the entire room
    was decorated in Gryffindor colors. The drapes on the windows and the bedspread were bright red with gold stripes. Harry ran his
    hand across the bed and laid down on it. It was the softest bed he had ever laid on, he thought, as his eyelids drooped suddenly.
    He heard Ron chuckle. "I'll go check up on Hermione then, if you're going to sleep," he joked.
    "Fine by me," Harry muttered, falling into a deep slumber. He didn't wake until late the next morning. As he opened his eyes
    and sighed happily about his new room, he thought of something that made him even more happy. The dark-haired woman, Dulcinea-
    whatever-her-name-was, hadn't appeared in his dreams. _I knew it was just something I made up,_ he thought, nestling back
    into the warm recess of his blankets.
    ***************************
    

Next Chapter 


	9. Chapter 9


    **Chapter 9: Another Visit
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "Everyone has a talent. What is rare is the courage to nurture it in solitude and
    to follow the talent to the dark places where it leads."
    -Erica Jong
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    On Monday morning, most students were grumbling as they received their schedules, but Harry was awake and chipper. He smiled at
    a grumpy-looking Ron as he sat down at the Gryffindor table for breakfast.
    "Hello, Ron!" he said cheerfully. Ron just glared at him.
    "I didn't get any sleep... Neville snored all night," Ron grumbled, taking his schedule from Hermione. She handed Harry's to
    him as well. Harry smiled again.
    "I slept just fine," he commented. _And no weird dreams about that woman in nearly three days...._ Harry's upbeat attitude
    changed as he looked down at the sheet in front of him. "We have Potions tomorrow at EIGHT O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING?? What are they
    thinking?" He groaned, laying his forehead on the table.
    "That'll teach you to be happy on a Monday morning," Ron growled.
    "Eight o'clock isn't that bad," Hermione said soothingly. "We've had classes then before."
    "But we're seventh years, Hermione! We should get late classes! Almost all of my classes are in the morning," Ron complained.
    "Well, then you'll have the afternoons free to do homework," she replied logically. Ron rolled his eyes.
    "Just what I needed. More time to do homework." Harry felt someone tap him on the shoulder and turned around.
    "Good morning," Rachel said, yawning widely. "Guess I'm not quite awake yet..."
    "None of us are," Harry said, glancing at Ron, who had nearly fallen asleep in his breakfast.
    "Don't forget, we have prefect duty tonight," Rachel said, checking her watch.
    "What? Tonight?" Harry asked, confused. Hermione sent a cold glare in his direction. "I mean... yeah... I'd forgotten. I haven't
    looked at the schedule in a couple of days..." _Actually, I've never looked at the prefect duty schedule,_ he thought, gulping.
    _Good thing Rachel said something, or Hermione would've skinned me alive._
    "Who's the new Defense teacher?" Ron asked curiously, craning his neck to see the teacher's table. Hermione made a sarcastic
    sound.
    "If you two actually paid attention sometimes, maybe you'd know," she said in a superior voice.
    "Was he at the feast the first day?" Ron wondered aloud.
    "No, and it's a she, for your information," Hermione told him, gathering her books and leaving the table. Ron rolled his eyes.
    "Well, whoever it is, I hope they're good. I want to get a decent score on my N.E.W.T.s!"
    ********************
    Harry, Ron, and Hermione trudged through the dewy wet grass to the greenhouses.
    "Herbology," Harry sighed. "First class on Monday morning."
    "At least it's at 10:00, we'll get to sleep in a little. Not like tomorrow," Ron grumbled, referring to Tuesday when they would
    have Potions.
    "Oh Ron, get over it already!" Hermione cried, throwing her hands in the air. "It's one class, and you only have to deal with
    it for a few more months!"
    "Yeah," Ron said dreamily. "Then I'll be free... no more school..."
    "Then we'll have to get jobs," Harry said, panic rising in his chest. "I can't believe this is our last year at Hogwart's..."
    They entered the greenhouse and joined the rest of the class standing around a spikey-looking red plant. Professor Sprout looked
    around at everyone.
    "Welcome back class, this year we'll be studying some of the most dangerous plants known to humans. Most of them are also quite
    useful, and you will recognize many of them from your Potions class, if you are in N.E.W.T. level Potions..."
    "Great," Ron groaned under his breath. "Now we get to hear about Potions in other classes, too!"
    Herbology went by suprisingly quickly, and Harry soon found himself completely done with his classes for the day. Instead of
    working on his homework, as Hermione had suggested earlier, he took a short nap and unpacked some of his belongings that were
    still inside his trunk. After he was done, he sat down comfortably on his bed.
    "This is paradise," he murmured, sinking into the soft blankets. He heard a sharp rap on the door. "Come in," he said, slightly
    annoyed. Ron burst in.
    "Hey Harry!" Ron greeted him. "Want to play a game of chess before dinner? I'm so bored," he complained. Harry shrugged.
    "Sure, why not."
    ********************
    Prefect duty that night was uneventful, and Harry returned to the Gryffindor tower in the early evening hours. However, writing
    his essay and practicing charms for tomorrow just didn't sound appealing.
    Harry and Ron finally started on their homework at about 9 PM; they both received angry looks from Hermoine for this.
    "She's been in such a foul mood today, what's wrong with her?" Ron questioned, flipping open his textbook.
    "Dunno, mate. Think we should check her jewelry to make sure she's not under the Imperious curse again?" Harry joked. (A/N: If you
    don't understand this, reread Chapter 37 from Web of Prophecies!) Ron just grumbled. "You're not in a very good mood today either,
    you know," Harry pointed out.
    "I told you, Neville snored all night last night. I don't get my own private room like you," he retorted.
    "Sorry," Harry whispered. Ron shook his head.
    "Nah, don't be sorry, I'm just being a prat because I'm so tired. Let's get this over with," he said, pulling a quill out of his
    backpack.
    *****************
    Harry settled into his comfortable bed and fell asleep almost immediately. _I've been waiting all day for this,_ he thought,
    feeling satisfied. Surprisingly, however, his dreamless nights had come to an end. He found himself again in the white room,
    accompanied by the dark-haired woman. She smiled at him serenely.
    "Hello again, Harry. How are you doing?" she asked.
    "I was fine until you decided to come back to visit again," he retorted. She shook her head.
    "So much anger... you'll have to get over that. Anger will not save you from the Dark Lord, you know."
    "You're really not helping, just coming to me in my dreams all the time and telling me I have to defeat Voldemort! I already
    know that!" he said, feeling helpless. "Who are you, anyway?"
    "I'm trying to help, you just won't let me. And I've already told you who I am: Dulcinea Rosalind Garcia." Harry felt the anger
    rising in his chest.
    "You're trying to help? By telling me the same thing over and over? Well listen, it's not working! Why would you be able to
    help, anyway?" Harry asked angrily, leaning against the cool white walls of the room. She smiled.
    "Finally, you're asking the right questions."
    "What's that supposed to mean?" Harry questioned, feeling like the conversation was going in circles. The woman smiled.
    "Voldemort is not the first dark wizard, you know. There were many before him."
    "Are you- were you- a dark wizard? Or, er, witch?" Harry asked, confused. She laughed.
    "Oh, no, not by any means. But I lived in a time when dark magic was developing rapidly and a young wizard came to power and
    chose to use that power for evil. "
    "Who was he?" Harry asked, becoming interested in the conversation.
    "I knew him as Geraldo Ramirez. The rest of the world knew him as Rey Ciro, but like Voldemort, many refused to speak his name,"
    she said sadly. "His magic was more powerful than any wizard before him, and his abilities went to his head. He wanted complete
    control of everyone and everything around him. He became obsessive."
    "Then what happened?" Harry asked, completely fascinated.
    "That doesn't matter," Dulcinea answered harshly. "Buy Rey Ciro created many severe forms of dark magic, some of which still
    exist to this day. Voldemort has discovered them, and you must stop him before he can use them. You are the chosen one, Harry
    Potter. It is your duty." She began to fade away.
    "What? I know I'm the chosen one, but how do I stop him? What kind of magic? When will this happen?" he asked rapidly, trying
    to stand but feeling as though he could not.
    "It will happen... sooner than you expect," she whispered, disappearing completely. Harry woke up suddenly, panting.
    "What's going on?" he whispered. Suddenly, it all seemed to be more than just a dream.
    *****************************
    Aldan Bradley smiled widely at the nervous werewolf.
    "Well, Mr. Lupin, we'll be getting back to you soon. I would expect within the next few days. Please stay in touch," he said,
    handing him a business card. Remus smiled politely, but his heart sank. _They'll never call,_ he told himself. _They
    know what I am._
    Remus Lupin left the job interview and walked back to the dingy boardinghouse. He fell onto the lumpy mattress. _I could use
    a good nap,_ he thought.
    ****
    The ringing phone jarred Remus from his restless sleep. Quickly, he jumped up and answered it.
    "Hello?" he said, feeling odd to be talking into the muggle device. He wasn't even sure how it worked, but he had seen muggles
    using them before, and figured he could do it too. He heard no noise. _Maybe it's upside down,_ he thought, flipping it
    over so that the speaker was by his mouth and the earpiece at his ear. "Hello?" he said again.
    "Mr. Remus Lupin?" a female voice questioned.
    "Yes?" he replied.
    "This is Miss Newton, from Headmaster Bradley's office in the Universal Institute for Magic. You had an interview here earlier
    today?"
    "Oh, yes," Remus answered, feeling flustered. He took a few deep breaths to calm down.
    "We'd like to tell you that you have been offered a position at our institution. If you're interested, we would like you to
    meet with Headmaster Bradley again in the next week to discuss payment and hours. Would you be interested? Mr. Lupin?" Remus'
    mouth hung open in shock. _I got the job,_ he thought, amazed.
    "I got the job," he whispered out loud. The secretary laughed.
    "Yes, Mr. Lupin, you did. You are interested then, I'll take it?"
    "Oh, yes, of course!" he finally answered.
    "Very good, I'll set up an appointment for you with Headmaster Bradley. Would 2:00 be okay for you?"
    "Wonderful," he answered dreamily. "2:00 would be delightful."
    **********************
    

Next Chapter 


	10. Chapter 11


    **Chapter 11: The First Attack
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge...
    Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice
    Cry 'havoc!' and let slip the dogs of war..."
    -William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, III:1
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    **********
    A/N: I realize there was no chapter 10... but if I put one in, then I'll be off on the numbering because of the author's
    note!! So sorry. Enjoy and don't forget to review!!
    **********
    After seeing the woman in his dreams again, Harry couldn't sleep. Feeling restless, he decided to get up and go to the small
    but nicely furnished Head's common room. Harry was surprised to see that it wasn't empty. Hermione was sitting on a small
    sofa, staring into the fire as tears ran down her face. She had her hands on her head and seemed not to have noticed Harry's
    entrance. _Should I ask what's wrong or leave?_ he wondered, before deciding to talk to her.
    "Hermione?" he asked gently, approaching the sofa. Her head snapped up immediately.
    "Harry," she whispered, looking embarassed and relieved at the same time. "What're you doing up this late?"
    "I couldn't sleep," he murmured, pushing his dream to the back of his mind.
    "I can never sleep anymore," Hermione said, choking back more tears. "I just keep thinking about what's going to happen... It
    feels like everything is coming together, every event has been leading up to something, and I don't know what it is, but I'm
    afraid. People are going to die, Harry," she said forcefully, staring him straight in the eye. "It could be me, Ron, you...
    then what?" she whispered.
    "Everything's going to be fine," he told her, rubbing her shoulder gently. "We can't change what's going to happen, so it's better
    just to not even think about it." He paused. "Is this why you've been acting so odd lately?" he asked. Hermione nodded.
    "I'm always tired, because I can never sleep, because I'm so worried about this war. I just wish it could end," she said
    mournfully, staring downwards.
    "It's hard on all of us. We just have to pull together, we'll defeat him eventually," Harry said in a hollow voice, lacking the
    confidence he had tried so hard to instill in his words. Hermione looked up at him fearfully.
    "Remember when you said that you weren't really good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, that you always just got lucky when you
    saw Voldemort?" she asked. Harry nodded, not sure where the conversation was heading. "I never believed you, Harry, but what
    if it's true? What if you're not so lucky next time?" Her voice cracked with emotion. "What if there's no hope left?"
    Harry didn't know how to respond, so he didn't. The Head Boy and Girl sat on the sofa in the early morning hours, staring at
    the dying embers of the fire, an uncomfortable silence filling the air surrounding them.
    *********************
    Harry had to agree with Ron that 8:00 AM was far to early for Potions as he got up the next morning. He had hardly slept at
    all during the night, and was definitely not looking forward to his least favorite class so early in the morning. He laid in his
    bed for longer than he should have, trying to get up, and subsequently missed breakfast. He managed to make it to Potions on
    time, slipping in the door just moments before Professor Snape began the lesson. He recieved an angry glare from the Potions
    Master, but he was still technically on time, so he did not get a detention. Hermione looked just about as tired as he felt.
    Professor Snape began to talk but Harry couldn't even concentrate.
    "This potion is quite complex, as well as dangerous, so for those of you who wish to remain alive..." Harry's attention waned.
    _Those of you who wish to remain alive... Yeah, Snape, my life is dependent on a lot more than your ruddy potion..._ Harry
    felt his eyelids beginning to droop. _So... tired..._
    He was woken by a sharp rapping on the desk, mere inches from his face.
    "Mr. Potter," Professor Snape sneered. "20 points from Gryffindor for sleeping during class." The Slytherins were giggling madly
    on the other side of the room. Harry shook his head sleepily. "As I was saying before Mr. Potter decided to take a nap, the
    potion requires only a very small amount of fluxweed - when you add it, be cautious..." Potions seemed to last forever, and
    Harry was thrilled when it finally ended. Ron glanced down at his watch as the trio left the dungeons.
    "Snape kept us longer than he was supposed to," Ron grumbled. "Now we've only got five minutes to get to Defense Against the
    Dark Arts." Harry suddenly felt a little better.
    "The first Defense class of the year! I wonder who the teacher is?" he asked. Ron shrugged.
    "I dunno, Hermione won't tell us," he said. A tiny smile appeared on Hermione's face.
    "Do you really want to know who I think it is, Ron?" she asked. Ron focused all his attention on her.
    "Yes, of course I do! Who is it?" he asked eagerly. Hermione laughed.
    "Well, I didn't say I would tell you, I only asked if you wanted to know!"
    "Hermione!" Ron exclaimed accusingly, as Harry and Hermione laughed.
    "Oh all right, but you both should have figured this out earlier. I'm pretty sure that it's... Hestia Jones," she said, pausing.
    "That short, black-haired woman from the Order?" Ron asked curiously. "Why her?" Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes.
    "Ron, don't you remember? She got fired from the Ministry of Magic because of her involvement in the Order, and that night
    at dinner Professor Dumbledore said that he had a job for her! Don't you think that's a bit of a coincidence?" she asked,
    crossing her arms.
    "Oh yeah, I'd forgotten all about that," Ron said thoughtfully. Hermione muttered something that sounded like "hopeless" and
    strolled into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
    "Well, let's see if she's right," Harry said, entering after her. He wasn't at all surprised to see Hestia sitting behind the
    mahogany desk at the front of the room. Hermione gave Ron a superior look before sitting down in a a desk. Harry and Ron sat
    near her. The class quieted immediately as Hestia stood up; they weren't sure how strict of a disciplinarian she would be.
    "Welcome class, I'm Professor Jones," she said quietly, flicking her wand towards the blackboard, where the chalk magically
    wrote the words "Professor Jones". "We're going to start off this class reviewing some of the material that Professor Lupin
    taught you last year, then we'll move on to some new subjects that will be on the N.E.W.T. tests in May. On Wednesday we'll
    have a practical defense class, but for today I will ask you to open your books to chapter 3." The lesson went fairly quickly,
    and the trio soon found themselves heading to lunch. Both Harry and Hermione had owls waiting for them, as they had missed
    breakfast.
    "A practical defense lesson tomorrow! I can't wait," Ron said excitedly, as Harry and Hermione received their mail. "What do
    you think it'll be about?"
    "No idea," Harry said, shaking his head as he ripped open his letter. It was a short note from Dumbledore, telling Harry to
    meet with him later that night. Hermione had one as well, along with a copy of The Daily Prophet.
    "Everything's been so quiet lately," Hermione said slowly, opening the paper. "Usually there's a few articles on Death Eater
    sightings, at least, but there hasn't been anything for the past week."
    "No news is good news!" Ron said as he shoved food into his mouth. "Don wuhe, Mihne." He swallowed. "Don't worry, Mione. I'm
    sure everything will be fine."
    ***********************
    Harry and Hermione's meeting with Dumbledore that night began as a uneventful one. Hermione informed him of all of the proposed
    Hogsmeade dates, and Professor Dumbledore listened patiently. When she was done, he spoke up.
    "Everything sounds fine. I am fairly certain that we will be able to retain Hogsmeade visits this year, provided that there are
    no major security threats. However, I am worried about you two," he said, looking sharply at Harry and Hermione. "If someone
    were to get into Hogwart's and possibly the Gryffindor tower, it would be dangerous for you to be in rooms by yourselves."
    "You want us to move back into the regular dormitories?" Harry asked, feeling disappointed. Dumbledore chuckled.
    "Not at all, Mr. Potter. I could never deprive you of your Head rooms; you've earned them. However, it might be more comforting,
    at least for me, if another student stayed in each of your rooms. Your choice, of course." He looked at them, searching for
    a response.
    "That's fine with me," Harry said, feeling relieved. _Maybe that would make my dreams go away._
    "Excellent. Who would you like to choose? I'll have their things moved upstairs this evening," Dumbledore said.
    "Ron Weasley," Harry answered. Dumbledore smiled, and nodded towards Hermione.
    "What about you, Miss Granger?" he asked. _Rachel,_ Harry thought. _Pick Rachel, pleeeease..._
    "Ginny Weasley," Hermione answered.
    "Very well," Dumbledore said, rising from his chair. "Please inform Ron and Ginny that they will be sleeping in your rooms
    tonight. If they choose not to, come see me and we will find another student to room with you." The fireplace in Dumbledore's
    office glowed green and a face appeared.
    "Albus, we need you immediately," Mr. Weasley said from the fire. "It's an emergency." Dumbledore nodded swiftly.
    "I will be there at once, Arthur. Please go back to your common rooms," he told Harry and Hermione. Harry nodded and left, feeling
    a little angry.
    "Why couldn't you have picked Rachel?" he asked Hermione, feeling moody.
    "I wanted Ginny," she said simply.
    "Why?" Harry demanded. Hermione stopped walking and turned to face him.
    "Because, Harry, she's my friend."
    "But Rachel's your friend too!" he protested.
    "I preferred Ginny," she answered. "I wasn't going to pick Rachel just because she was your girlfriend."
    "But I picked Ron-"
    "Because he's your friend, not because he's my boyfriend," Hermione answered calmly.
    "You never liked Rachel!" Harry accused. "You're just jealous!"
    "Harry James Potter, I am NOT jealous! Rachel's nice and all, but really, I just get an odd feeling when I'm around her. We
    just don't click. Ginny will be my roommate." With that, Hermione spun on her heel and entered the common room, going to find
    Ginny and tell her the news. Harry strode over to Ron, who was sitting on the floor doodling on some paper. As Harry approached,
    he realized it was plans for a Quidditch game.
    "Hey mate," Ron said, grinning. "I think I've got some great new strategies for this year."
    "Wonderful," Harry grumbled.
    "What's wrong with you?" Ron asked.
    "Tired," Harry grunted, not feeling like explaining the fight with Hermione.
    "Oh. I thought you got lots of sleep in your comfy bedroom," Ron teased.
    "Well, you'll just have to see for yourself. You'll be sleeping up there with me for the rest of the year." He explained
    Dumbledore's idea.
    "Awesome! Yeah, I get to sleep in the Head's bedroom! Harry, this is great!" he exclaimed. "Who'd Hermione choose?"
    "Ginny," Harry answered. "And after we told Dumbledore who we wanted, your dad appeared in the fireplace and said there was
    an emergency, so Dumbledore had to leave."
    "What kind of emergency?" Ron asked, suddenly looking serious.
    "I dunno, he didn't say," Harry said, at once feeling as though he should have been more concerned about this than he had been
    about Hermione choosing Ginny. Harry stood up and walked over to Hermione, forgetting all about their fight.
    "Mione, what do you think Mr. Weasley meant? Do you think maybe... there was an attack?" he asked her quietly. She glared at
    him.
    "It's possible, Harry, but all you've been concerned about was your girlfriend. I'm sure we'll hear soon enough," she answered.
    The door of the common room swung open with a bang and all noise in the room ceased. Professor McGonagall stood in the doorframe
    with a group of students, whom she was apparently ushering inside.
    "All students will stay inside of this room until further notice. Do not leave the common room. Do not send any owls until you
    are told that you are allowed to do so. The portrait will be locked so that no one may leave." Gasps and whispers rang through
    the room.
    "What's happened?" a terrified-looking second year asked Professor McGonagall.
    "There has been an attack," she said heavily. "Right now, your safety is our priority, and we must keep you inside. I will be
    back to check on you later." She shut the door and a quiet "click" rang through the room. The fear was visible in most students'
    eyes.
    "I knew it," Hermione whispered. Ron placed his hand on her back.
    "Mione, are you feeling okay?" he asked. Her eyes widened and she spoke, somehow retaining the consciousness she had not kept
    during her first prophecy.
    
    
    _The Dark Lord closes in, and the battles increase.
    The power he possesses is unknown to all but two,
    One that lives and one that has yet to pass on.
    History will repeat itself, and the past will damage the future
    Unless it is stopped by the One Who Lived.
    The Dark Lord is approaching...._
    
    
    Hermione collapsed on the ground. Most of the students were screaming in terror. Professor McGonagall opened the portrait door
    again.
    "Now really, what is going on here?" she asked sternly, before her eyes fell on Hermione. A hand rose to her mouth as she hurried
    forward to help. "What happened?" she asked.
    "She told another prophecy," Harry answered gravely.
    "It wasn't like last time," Hermione whispered, close to tears. "I was awake this time. I remember what I said, and I remember
    saying it."
    "Please go to your dormitories everyone," Professor McGonagall commanded. The group began to complain.
    "But it's only 7:00!" whined a first year.
    "Go do your dormitories," she repeated forcefully, staring at the first year. The students quickly deserted the common room;
    the only ones left were Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Professor McGonagall. "Let's take her up to her room," McGonagall
    told them. "Hermione, can you walk?"
    "Oh, yes... I'm fine, really..." She stood up, wavering a little bit as she held onto the sofa for support.
    "Make sure she gets upstairs," McGonagall told Ron and Harry. "I have to leave." She glanced around to make sure that the room
    really was empty. "The attacks are more severe than we thought at first."
    "Where are the attacks? Are they attacking muggle-borns?" Harry asked. Professor McGonagall sighed.
    "The attacks are happening all over England, all at the same time. It was very well organized. And their main focus seems to
    be on Order members' homes, not muggles..." Ron and Ginny paled. "Please go upstairs," she begged. "I'll give you more information
    when I have it."
    The four students climbed the spiral staircase slowly. They all entered Harry's room, which now contained Ron's old bed. Ron
    sat on it, surveying the room.
    "Now what?" he asked.
    **********************
    

Next Chapter 


	11. Chapter 12


    **Chapter 12: Aftermath
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    The bright day is done, and we are for the dark."
    -William Shakespeare, _Antony and Cleopatra_
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    The Head's common room was almost completely silent. Ron was pacing nervously in front of the fireplace, Ginny and Hermione
    sat on one sofa, and Harry sprawled out in a cushy armchair. Although he was comfortable, he couldn't relax. _The attacks
    are targeting Order members_, he thought, running a hand through his messy hair. _Who do I know that's going to get
    hurt? Who do I know that is going to die?_
    The door squeaked open and everyone stopped and stared. Ginny gasped in fear. A round pink face appeared from the hallway.
    "Hey Neville," Harry greeted his friend, letting out his breath, which he hadn't realized he had been holding.
    "Hi guys," Neville answered nervously, glancing around the room. "I just wondered if you knew any more than the rest of us
    did..." Surprisingly, Hermione spoke up.
    "It's a Death Eater attack. According to Professor McGonagall, they're targeting Order members and it was very well organized,"
    she recited. Neville nodded and moved towards the group.
    "Do... do you mind if I stay here? With you guys?" he asked.
    "Sure," Harry said, gesturing towards the chair across from him. "Have a seat."
    ****
    There was no news for hours. Ginny had fallen asleep in front of the fireplace, Neville was lying on the sofa, and Harry, Ron,
    and Hermione had retreated to their rooms. Harry stared at the ceiling above his bed. He was in no mood to sleep, despite the
    fact that it was nearly 5 AM.
    "Harry, mate, are you still awake?" Ron whispered from across the room. Harry propped himself up on his elbows.
    "Yeah, Ron," he replied.
    "What if... what if they lost the battle..." _And no one comes back to get us_, Harry finished mentally.
    "It's not going to happen, Ron," he said firmly. "It can't." The two friends laid in their beds until the sun came up. Around
    6:30 AM, they heard a knock on the door.
    "Come in!" Harry cried, sitting up in bed. The first to enter the room was Mrs. Weasley, followed by Mr. Weasley, Fred, George,
    and...
    "Percy?" Ron asked, flabbergasted. "What're you doing here?"
    "He's come back," Mrs. Weasley said, happy but with a note of sadness in her voice. "Isn't that wonderful, Ron?"
    "I have seen the error of my ways, though at the time the Ministry had much better evidence than the Order-" Percy was interrupted
    as the door opened again. This time, it was Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. Harry breathed a sigh of relief knowing that
    they were both still alive.
    "Classes for today have been cancelled," Dumbledore said. "The entire student body will meet in the Great Hall at noon."
    "I will post it on the bulletin board, don't worry about informing the younger students," McGonagall added. "You have many more
    important things to take care of." She inclined her head towards the Weasley family before leaving the room behind Dumbledore.
    _What did that mean?_ Harry wondered. Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath.
    "I suppose we should tell him," she said worriedly. Ron looked back and forth between his parents.
    "Tell us what?" he demanded.
    "Let me get Ginny first," Mr. Weasley said, leaving the room. He returned with his daughter, her eyes red and tired from
    lack of sleep. Hermione and Neville came in along with her.
    "What's going on?" Ginny mumbled, rubbing her eyes sleepily as she looked at her family filling the room. "What happened?"
    "Well," Mr. Weasley began. "I don't know how much you know about the attacks, but their main targets were Order members and their
    families. There lots of deaths, but only one from the Order." He paused for what seemed to be an eternity. "Elphias Dodge
    was killed; so was Tonk's mother. Bill is in the hospital, but they think he'll be fine." Hermione gasped.
    "Is Bill going to be okay?" Ron asked, looking fearful.
    "Yeah, he'll pull through. Just a few injuries," Fred said in an uncharacteristic display of seriousness.
    "Another thing... that happened..." Mrs. Weasley looked like she was trying not to cry. "Well, I'm glad it was this instead
    of losing someone, I don't think I could have dealt with that... but they set fire to the Burrow."
    "Burned it to the ground," George said gloomily. Ginny put her hands over her mouth.
    "But mum, where are we going to live?" Ginny whispered, staring at her mother. Tears slipped down Molly Weasley's face.
    "We'll be fine, dear, we always have..." Harry stared at the family he loved more than any other, the one family that had
    accepted him as a son. He knew they would not have enough money to buy another house, and he knew that he had the perfect solution.
    Pulling himself out of bed, he rummaged through his trunk until he reached a box at the bottom. He opened it hurriedly and
    pulled out an official-looking piece of parchment. He stood and walked over to where the Weasleys were.
    "Here," he said, handing the parchment carefully to Mr. Weasley. "Maybe this will help." Realization dawned in Arthur Weasley's
    eyes as he stared at it.
    "Oh no, Harry, we couldn't possibly-" he began.
    "Take it. It's yours," Harry demanded.
    "But-"
    "What is it, dear?" Molly asked kindly, dabbing at the tears in her eyes. Mr. Weasley continued to stare at the parchment
    with a flustered look on his face.
    "It's the deed to Number 12, Grimmauld Place," he said finally.
    "Oh Harry, you know we couldn't accept that!" she said, wiping her eyes.
    "I'm giving it to you, whether you want it or not. You need somewhere to stay, and you've done more work on that house than
    anyone else. You deserve it," Harry said firmly.
    "No dear, really, it's too much-" Mrs. Weasley protested. Mr. Weasley held up a hand.
    "Thank you, Harry. I'm not sure that we'll be able to accept this but we will discuss that later. We only came to bring this
    bad news, and now we must be returning to Headquarters. The Order will need us," he said simply. Ron and Ginny said goodbye
    to their parents, Fred, and George, and the family left. Ron climbed back into bed.
    "I'm going to sleep until that meeting at noon," he announced.
    "Sounds good," Harry grunted, curling up under his soft covers.
    *****************
    Nymphadora Tonks rolled over groggily in bed and stared at her alarm clock. It read 10:37. _Damn it,_ she thought, attempting
    to get up. _I was supposed to be at work at 8._ The battle last night had been brutal, and she felt exhausted and sore.
    She had not gotten home until 4 AM, when she discovered that her house, too, had the Dark Mark hovering over it. Adrenaline
    and fear flooding her body, she had run inside only to see the limp figure of her mother, lying motionless on the kitchen
    floor. She had summoned a few Order members and they had repaired things as best they could. Andromeda Tonks, however, was
    gone from this world.
    Nymphadora made her way slowly downstairs from her bedroom. She knew that most people in her situation would certainly skip
    a day of work, but for Tonks this would only make things more suspicious. Only Order of the Phoenix members' homes had been
    attacked, and if she told her boss that Voldemort had killed her mum, he would know she was working for Dumbledore as a spy.
    _I've got to go to work,_ she thought wearily. _For the Order..._
    She was now standing above the exact spot where she had found her mother's body early this morning. Tears sprang into her eyes.
    After her father, Ted Tonks, had died last year of a heart attack, Nymphadora had become extremely close to her mother.
    _Now they're both gone,_ she thought, tears rushing down her face.
    "To hell with the Ministry," she growled aloud. "I'm not going to work." She walked over to a kitchen cupboard and pushed
    things aside, unceremoniously knocking cans and boxes of cereal to the floor. She finally pulled out a bottle of Ogden's
    Old Firewhisky and collapsed onto the floor, sobbing. She gulped down the foul-tasting liquid until she could no longer tell
    how horrible it tasted. She felt as if she were a lost little girl.
    "Mummy," she whispered, her eyes teary and her voice wavering. "I miss you."
    ****************
    "Ron, Harry, wake up! Come on, it's nearly time for the meeting!" Hermione's voice, loud and scolding, rang through the Head
    Boy's dormitory. Ron groaned.
    "C'mon, Mione, just a few more minutes..."
    "Ronald Weasley! GET UP! We're going to be late!" She left, slamming the door behind her.
    "She sounds like my mum," Ron complained, climbing out of bed. Harry snickered.
    "That she does. But she's right, it's nearly 12." They quickly threw on some fresh robes and hurried into the Heads' common
    room, where Hermione was waiting impatiently with Ginny.
    "We've got to walk them all down there, you know," she said coldly, heading down the staircase to the main Gryffindor common
    room. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Gryffindor prefects led the way to the Great Hall. The students settled into
    their seats at the house tables and waited for Dumbledore to begin.
    "As many of you know, there was a very vicious Death Eater attack last night. Because all mail by way of owl has been blocked,
    you may not know what I am about to tell you. Some of those who were the strongest opponents to Lord Voldemort were killed or
    had their families murdered. Although it was at first thought that he was attacking families joined to... a particular institution,
    he was instead murdering those who had spoken against him in any form." He paused. "Only a few minutes ago did I order the
    ban against owls to be lifted. I expect that they will be here any minute now, most of them carrying bad news. Classes will
    be postponed for the next week, and counselors will be available. If you do not feel comfortable talking to a stranger, you
    may also confide in any of the prefects or the Head Boy and Girl...." Harry's mind was spinning. _How many people died?_
    he thought frantically. _I thought it was only a few._ As Dumbledore had predicted, owls soon came pouring into the Great
    Hall. Students left and right were getting the news that their parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, or friends had
    perished in the war. Girls were sobbing hysterically all around Harry.
    "Ron... this is horrible," Harry whispered. Ron simply nodded, his eyes wide. Harry saw Rachel approaching and his heart
    sank. Her face was covered in tears and she was carrying a letter in her shaking hand. Harry couldn't even bring himself to
    ask, but he didn't have to. Rachel spoke first.
    "My aunt... and Adriana," she mumbled, covering her face. Harry pulled her into an embrace.
    "Rach, I'm so sorry," he whispered, staring up at the enchanted ceiling. It was raining, pouring to be exact, and the lightning
    flashing across it made him think of his own anger in the midst of his sadness.
    *****************
    All of the students had been sent back to their common rooms, but no one felt much like talking any longer. The few lucky
    students who hadn't had anyone from their families die were quietly sitting in the common room doing homework, in hopes that
    classes would be restarted soon and everything would be back to normal. Many of the students who knew someone who had died
    had already left in preparation for the funeral.
    Harry sat on the cushioned sofa in the Heads' common room, perusing one of the Defense Against the Dark Arts books that Remus
    and Sirius had given him for Christmas a few years ago. Ron sat on the floor, playing a game of chess against himself, and
    Hermione and Ginny were reading books on the other side of the room. Ron groaned loudly before flipping the entire chess board,
    causing the pieces to scatter across the room.
    "Ron, stop it!" Ginny scolded, looking cross.
    "Someone talk, I'm sick of this silence," he snapped back.
    "So what are we supposed to talk about?" Hermione asked cooly, staring back at Ron.
    "What about your prophecy, Hermione?" Harry asked suddenly. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all gave him an odd look. He continued.
    "I meant, what does it mean? Maybe we could try to figure it out." Ron didn't look too optimistic. "It could take our minds
    off... other things," Harry finished.
    "I've been wondering that as well," Hermione said enthusiastically. "Let me find a quill and I'll write down the exact wording,
    I still remember it all...." She pulled out some parchment and scribbled it down. "Hmmm, I've really no idea," she confessed.
    "Hermione?? For once, you don't know something?" Ron asked mockingly.
    "Shut it, Ron," Harry said without taking his eyes off the paper. He began to recite it. "The Dark Lord closes in, and the
    battles increase... The power he possesses is unknown to all but two." Harry looked up. "Who's supposed to know about this
    unknown power?"
    "Well, obviously one human and one ghost," Hermione said logically.
    "What?" Harry and Ron asked together.
    "One that lives and one that has yet to pass on," Hermione recited. "If they were both completely alive, it would have just
    said that. but 'One that has yet to pass on' would have to be a ghost, correct?"
    "Er... I guess so," Harry said doubtfully. This was making less and less sense.
    "History will repeat itself, and the past will damange the future unless it is stopped by the One Who Lived," they chorused
    together.
    "So Harry... it's obviously talking about you-" Hermione said, but was interrupted.
    "Of course it is, but we already know that. I have to defeat him, blah blah blah, because of the FIRST prophecy." He waved
    his hand impatiently. "It's just repeating the other one."
    "I don't think so," Hermione cautioned. She stared at the prophecy for a few more minutes. She gasped. "Harry, you're the
    one that lives!"
    "Um, yeah, the One Who Lived, I know," he said in an irritated tone.
    "No! 'One that lives and one that has yet to pass on'! If you're the only one who can stop it, and only one living person
    knows about this secret power, they must both mean you!" she exclaimed.
    "Well, sorry, but no one's told me about any secret powers lately. I hate to disappoint you," he answered sarcastically.
    "Then they must be going to! And it will be from a ghost," she said firmly. A shiver ran down Harry's spine. _You have talked
    to a ghost,_ a voice in his head said. _She wasn't a ghost, just some weird dream,_ he argued with it. _But she
    did mention a secret power..._ Harry shook himself internally to get rid of the thoughts. It couldn't possibly be true.
    Hermione must be interpreting this prophecy all wrong.
    *****************
    

Next Chapter 


	12. Chapter 13


    **Chapter 13: Dulcinea's Story
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness,
    and some have greatness thrust upon 'em."
    -William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, II:5
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    Harry climbed into his bed, falling asleep almost immediately. After leaving the Great Hall, he had felt terrible, but for
    the last few hours he had been separated from those who had experienced the greatest losses, so all he could think about
    was sleep. And how badly he needed it....
    He cursed inwardly as the first dream of his night was of the woman in the white room. He just stared at her, not saying
    anything. A smirk appeared on her face.
    "So, Harry Potter, now you know the truth. But you refuse to believe it," she said.
    "What are you talking about?" Harry demanded. She shook her head.
    "You know what I'm talking about. The prophecy. Only two people will know about the Dark Lord's power - 'one that lives and
    one that has yet to pass on.'" Harry looked at her in denial.
    "You're not a ghost, you're just a weird dream," he said, more to himself than to her.
    "Is that so?" she whispered. The dream stopped and Harry woke up.
    "I'm going insane," he mumbled, turning over to get more comfortable.
    "I wouldn't say that," a female voice said from above him. Harry nearly screamed as he saw, floating only a few feet above him,
    the woman who had haunted his dreams for weeks. He pushed himself hurriedly back against the headboard of the bed.
    "Get away from me," he hissed. "What do you want?"
    "I only want to help," the woman replied kindly. "Let me reintroduce myself, since I've never met you in the physical world.
    My name is Dulcinea Rosalind Garcia." She held out her hand.
    "Harry Potter. Er... can ghosts shake hands?" he questioned. She dropped her arm, looking disappointed.
    "No, I suppose not. Harry, you know the prophecy is talking about you. I have to tell you my message."
    "Well... er... what's your message?" he asked cautiously. Dulcinea sighed deeply.
    "It's a very long story but I'll attempt to shorten it. I grew up in a small Spanish town many, many years ago, where my father
    was a nobleman who owned the land the village was built on. One day I met a young man named Geraldo who became infatuated with
    me. He followed me all the time, though he was only a peasant and had no chance of ever marrying me. My father became very
    angry with him and ordered him to leave the city. He did, but he snuck back in whenever my father was gone. This young man
    scared me half to death, his ideas were so odd. He was always talking about power and magic, and I was too afraid to tell him
    to leave." She shuddered. "One day, he gave me a beautiful jade bracelet."
    She held out her right arm, where a delicate gold linked chain hung daintily; in each of the links, a teardrop-shaped jade
    stone was inlaid. Harry noticed one of the stones was missing. "He told me that he wanted me to marry him, and asked me to
    wear the bracelet every day to remind me of him. I began to wear it frequently; I loved the bracelet and thought it was
    magnificent." Dulcinea paused, taking a deep breath.
    "Little did I know, he would become one of the most powerful dark wizards in history, Rey Ciro. His most sinister inventions
    were spells that allowed magic to be placed inside of objects, a feat that is still considered nearly impossible. The bracelet
    was cursed. Geraldo was able to control my mind, and by the time I discovered the source of this control, we were betrothed.
    On the evening before our wedding day, I destroyed the magic of the bracelet, but he found out. He was furious. He locked
    me in a tiny, dark shack for hours. When he returned, he was dragging an enormous metal cauldron. He started mixing some kind
    of potion. I had never been more afraid in my life. He dropped what was to be my wedding ring inside of the cauldron; when he
    took it out, it was glowing orange. He forced me to wear it, and as soon as I touched it, my soul was bound to his. The spell for
    soul-binding is complex and completely irreversible, but somehow he had managed to do this dark magic." Dulcinea's voice wavered,
    and she blinked back tears furiously.
    "I knew nothing from then on. We were married; I only consented because he was controlling my mind. His power rose and he became
    one of the worst Dark Lords in the history of the world. Most days I understood only a few of the things that were going on, but
    some days I remembered the potion Geraldo had made in the shack. The potion that bound me to him..." She struggled to find
    the words to continue. "One day, everything came into focus. I remembered the bracelet, the ring, the evil that Rey Ciro
    was committing against the world. I couldn't handle it any longer. I ran outside and found myself at the edge of a steep, rocky
    cliff over the Mediterranean Sea. I jumped." Harry's mouth hung open in shock.
    "You killed yourself?" he asked. Dulcinea nodded grimly.
    "What I didn't know was that the death of one person in a soul-binding charm kills the other. I was the cause of Rey Ciro's
    downfall. When I jumped into the sea, he died as well."
    "That's horrible, but... I still don't understand what this has to do with me," Harry said, sounding confused. Dulcinea took
    a deep breath.
    "The curses of Rey Ciro have already affected your life, you just haven't realized it. Voldemort plans to use the soul-binding
    charm on you. If you are bound to him, then the prophecy will never be completed and he will be able to reign forever."
    "What?" Harry cried. "That can't happen! It has to be completed. We would probably both die sooner that way!" Dulcinea nodded.
    "I agree. I do not know what his reasoning is behind this decision. I have given you lots of information tonight; I want you
    to think about it all. I will be back again to visit - I always do." She winked before disappearing through the ceiling.
    Harry lay back on his bed, stunned. _What does this mean? What am I going to do about it?_
    **************************
    Harry didn't wake until nearly noon the following morning. He stumbled into the Head's common room on his way to the bathroom.
    "Mate, you look bloody terrible," Ron commented, glancing up from the chess game he was playing against Ginny. "Did you sleep
    at all last night?"
    "Not really," Harry mumbled. He walked to the shower and undressed. He turned the knob and let the scalding water run down his
    back, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling. _Dulcinea Rosalind Garcia,_ he thought as he reached for the soap.
    _Had I ever heard that name before I met her in my dreams?_ He decided he had not as he washed the soap off his body
    and picked up the shampoo bottle. _So Voldemort wants to do this soul-binding thing to me... I don't really understand why.
    And how have 'the curses of Rey Ciro' already affected my life? What did she mean by that?_ Harry turned off the shower
    and reached for his fluffy towel. He wrapped it around his waist and gazed into the mirror; his messy black hair looked wild,
    and his emerald green eyes seemed to shine more brightly than normal. He promised himself that they would never lose that
    glint of hope, as some of the aurors had seemed to. He dressed quickly and walked back out to the common room.
    "I'm hungry," he complained to Ron. "Do we get to eat, or do we have to stay cooped up in here without food for a week?"
    "The house-elves are bringing up lunch," Hermione said, sniffing indignantly. "Like they already don't have enough work,
    and now-"
    "How'd you know that?" Harry asked, interrupting the on-coming house-elf rant. Hermione frowned at him.
    "How do I know what? The house-elves or lunch?"
    "Lunch," Harry answered, putting a hand over his growling stomach. Hermione rolled her eyes.
    "Professor McGonagall was up here a few hours ago. While you were still sleeping," she added. Harry glanced over at Ron and
    Ginny, who were still playing their game of chess.
    "Hermione, I wanted to look something up in the library. D'you think I could get out of here without them noticing and make
    it back before they bring lunch?" Harry asked innocently. Hermione's eyes narrowed.
    "What do you mean, look something up? We don't have any homework because we don't have any classes. Harry, what's going on?"
    she asked suspiciously. Harry sighed.
    "I can't really tell you. I think... I think I might have figured something out about the prophecy." Hermione's eyes lit up.
    "You ARE the 'one who lives', aren't you?" she whispered excitedly. "I was right and that's why you can't tell me! Isn't it?"
    Harry paused before nodding. "So then you've talked to a ghost?" she asked. Harry nodded again.
    "She was... yeah, sort of a ghost. But Hermione, I want to research it more, figure out exactly who she is," he said eagerly.
    Hermione looked thoughtful.
    "We'll wait until they bring lunch, then ask the house-elves to have Dobby come up here. He'll have some sort of answer!" she
    suggested. Harry nodded.
    ***
    The house-elves brought a tray bursting with food upstairs and into the Heads' common room. Ron stared at it hungrily and
    immediately dug in. Harry's stomach was growling, but he managed to ignore the food long enough to get the attention of a
    scruffy-looking elf carrying a teapot.
    "Hello, er, Mr. House-Elf?" Harry said politely. The elf bowed deeply, still balancing the teapot.
    "Yes, sir, is you needing something, sir?" he asked in a squeaky voice.
    "Er, yeah, I have a house-elf, I think he's in the kitchen with you guys, his name is Dobby. Could you send him up here?" Harry
    asked.
    "Oh, yes, sir," the house-elf answered, nodding vigorously.
    "Great," Harry told him, picking up a drumstick from the food tray. Harry ate ravenously; he was starving since he hadn't had
    any breakfast. When he was just about done eating, Dobby appeared with a loud popping noise.
    "Master Harry, you is needing something?" Dobby cried, looking worried.
    "Er, yeah Dobby. Can I talk to you in my room?" he asked, standing up. Dobby followed and Harry closed the door behind them.
    "You see Dobby, I really need to find a way to get to the library. I have an invisibility cloak so I can get through the
    hallways, but I can't get through the portrait door, they're all locked," he explained. Surprisingly, Dobby just laughed.
    "You is serious, Harry Potter?" he asked, grinning.
    "Well... yeah," Harry said, shrugging. Dobby smiled.
    "You is the Head Boy. These rooms is not like the other rooms, you know."
    "I've sort of noticed," Harry said, slightly annoyed. _What's his point?_ he wondered.
    "But you has not noticed this, Harry Potter," Dobby said triumphantly, walking over to a painting on the wall. Harry had
    noticed it before, but had never paid much attention; it was a close-up of a lake, with some lilypads and a few fish. Dobby
    ran his finger over an orange fish with white spots and it wiggled a little bit. Suddenly, the wall opened up and a passageway
    appeared. Harry's eyes widened in shock.
    "What is this, Dobby?" he asked, staring at it in amazement.
    "It is a hidden passage, Harry Potter. It leads to a statue on the fourth floor, so it is close to the library. Will this
    help, Harry Potter?" he asked hopefully.
    "Oh yeah, Dobby, this is great!" Harry answered, still in awe. _Now I can get out whenever I want,_ he thought happily.
    _I'm not locked in like the rest of the school._ Of course, he would have to share this information with Ron and
    Hermione, and maybe Ginny, but for now... it was all his to explore. Pulling his invisibility cloak out of his trunk, he
    bid Dobby goodbye and took off down the passageway.
    ******************
    Tonks stumbled down her stairway into the kitchen. Her hair, normally vibrant and spiky, was now shoulder-length and dark brown,
    its natural color. She was dressed in her shabby bathrobe and fluffy slippers. As she had expected, the Ministry had fired her
    the day after she had not shown up to work, especially after they found out her mother had been killed. They now had a clear
    connection between her and the Order, so that made her unemployed. She sighed softly._On days like this,_ she thought to herself,
    _I don't even feel like getting dressed._ She knew she had to though; today was her mother's funeral. Sadly, she poured
    some cereal into a bowl and pushed it around with a spoon, not really eating any. _I hate funerals,_ she thought decisively.
    ***
    A few hours later, Tonks was surrounded by relatives and family friends as the funeral was about to begin. She sat in the very
    last row, searching the crowd with narrowed eyes.
    "Looking for someone, Nymphadora?" a kind voice asked her. Her head snapped up to see an exhausted-looking Remus Lupin
    standing over her.
    "Hey, Remus," she greeted him, gesturing to the chair next to her. "Have a seat."
    "I was so sorry to hear about your mother. I hope you're doing well," he said as he settled in beside her. Tonks' eyes flitted
    over to him. She was surprised to see he was wearing new robes for once, and he seemed to have a younger look in his eyes.
    "You look good," she told him simply. He grinned wolfishly.
    "I got a job," he replied. "Actually have an income, for once." Tonks snorted.
    "Well, I don't have one anymore. I don't even know what I'm going to do... I don't want to live in that huge house by myself."
    "You should apply to the Universal Institute for Magic, that's where I'm working now. Have you heard of it?"
    "Oh yeah," Tonks said, looking thoughtful. "That new school that's like a muggle university? It sounds interesting. And they
    hired you? Very interesting..."
    "Are you saying it was a bad decision to hire me?" he joked. Tonks smiled a little.
    "Not at all," she murmured, as the organ started to play music and the funeral began.
    ****************
    

Next Chapter 


	13. Chapter 14


    **Chapter 14:
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+**
    "Five miles meandering with mazy motion,
    Through dale the sacred river ran,
    Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
    And sank the tumult to a lifeless ocean:
    And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
    Ancestral voices prophesying war!"
    -Samuel Taylor Coleridge, _Kubla Kahn_
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+**
    *Sorry it's been so much longer between updates than normal... I just haven't had a spare moment to write!! And finally today
    when I did, I didn't feel very motivated, so it's taken me a while to get it all down. Thanks to the dedicated readers who are
    still sticking by my story!!*
    Harry stumbled down the dark corridor over a few slick stones on the ground. The secret passageway from his bedroom was absolutely
    thrilling. _How the heck did Dobby know this was here?_ he wondered, grinning. _This is great. I can leave whenever
    I want..._ He reached a wall and stopped.
    "Now what?" he whispered, running his hands along the smooth surface in front of him. He felt several deep pockets, almost
    like... steps? He looked upwards and groaned. The passageway continued straight up for about ten feet before leveling off
    again. Pulling himself up by the handholds in the wall, he managed to scramble up onto the upper platform. There was a
    small wooden door in front of him, and he pushed it open. His eyes squinted in the sudden burst of sunlight. He was, as Dobby
    had said, just outside of the library; the door he had pushed open made the statue in front of it move away. Hurriedly, he
    shut the door and scurried down the hall towards the library, still wearing his invisibility cloak. _Please be unlocked,_
    he thought silently, reaching towards the handle. It was. He entered, closing the door quietly behind him, and ran over to
    the restricted section, ducking under the rope. He grinned up at the books above him.
    "Where should I start?" he mused, selecting a book about Spanish history. With a contented sigh, he sat on the ground in front
    of the shelf and began to read.
    *******************
    Rachel lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She hadn't felt like getting up for days now, but today was the first day
    she actually hadn't. From the shadows and light filtering in through the windows past her closed bedcurtains, she figured
    it was afternoon, probably 1 or 2:00. _I should eat something,_ she though, wiping away a tear from her eye. _But I'm
    not hungry._ She rolled onto her stomach and reread the letter she had received from her uncle. She could still hardly
    believe that she would never see Aunt Isabel or Adriana again. She felt as though she needed someone to talk to, but at the
    same time, she wanted to be left alone. _I haven't heard from Harry in days,_ she thought, running her hand through her
    tangled blonde hair. A feeling of anger bubbled up inside of her.
    "He could have at least owled me," she muttered, flipping her pillow over angrily. Wasn't he supposed to be there for her?
    Helping her in times of need? Sure, they couldn't leave their dormitories, but he could have at least sent a note. "When
    was the last time he followed the rules anyway?" she mumbled. He was changing; she was sure of it. The Harry SHE had known
    would have escaped from his dorm days ago to come visit her. Her eyes widened; maybe there was another girl!
    "Ginny," she muttered angrily. "Or maybe Parvati? Or Lavendar?" Her thoughts were interrupted by a tapping on the window.
    Rachel's heart lifted - Harry hadn't forgotten about her! _It must be Hedwig,_ she thought happily, pulling back the
    bedcurtains and rushing to the window. But the snowy owl was nowhere to be seen; in its place was a raven owl, its black
    beady eyes staring up at her. Slowly, she lifted the window latch. "My father," she whispered, staring at the owl as if in
    a trance. She untied the letter and the dark owl flew off suddenly. Her eyes still focused on the letter, Rachel returned to
    her bed and closed the curtains again. _Should I read this one?_ she wondered. _What the hell.. Why not?_ She hurriedly
    tore open the envelope and read the spidery handwriting inside.
    _My dearest daughter,
    I have heard about your loss and am deeply saddened. Although I know
    that some of your mother's family members remain, I would like you
    to know that you are always welcome at my home. It would be wonderful
    if all of my children could be here together. Rachel, don't you miss
    having a family? Don't you want to play and laugh together with your
    brothers? We miss you, Rachel, and you miss us. You are my one and
    only beautiful little girl, and I wish that you could be here with me.
    You belong with us, not in Spain. Please consider my offer.
    Sincerely,
    Your loving father and brothers_
    Rachel covered her mouth as her shoulders shook silently, tears pouring down her face. He was right. She did want a family.
    She didn't belong in Spain. Her eyes drifted over to the framed picture on the headboard of her bed; there was the group of
    people she had considered her "family" for so many years, all of them with their dark hair and dark eyes, and her standing
    in the middle, her blonde hair and pale green eyes standing out so obviously. Not fitting in, as she had always felt. The
    outsider. That wasn't her language, that wasn't her culture, those weren't her parents... She swallowed painfully and reached
    for a spare piece of parchment and a quill.
    _Father,_ she wrote. She frowned, staring at the word before crumpling the parchment and getting a new sheet.
    _Dad,_ she began, smiling.
    _I would love to talk to you sometime. Maybe I could come for
    dinner next weekend? Right now I can't leave or anything because
    of the attacks, they're making us stay in our rooms. I have thought
    about living with you and think it might be a good idea. I never
    really belonged in Spain. So what about dinner? Please send an
    answer by return owl.
    Your daughter,
    Rachel_
    Feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her chest, Rachel coaxed her tiny brown owl out of his cage and gave him
    the letter. Smiling to herself, she picked up a clean set of robes and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.
    *********************
    An hour later, Harry wasn't quite as happy as he had been when he entered the library. _I can't find anything about this
    Garcia lady,_ he thought angrily, slamming another book shut. This had been sort of a dumb idea in the first place, he
    thought. _Who breaks school rules to visit the library?_ he wondered sarcastically. He heard the door creak and froze
    immediately. The uneven footsteps were coming from the front entrance of the library; hurriedly, Harry slipped the
    invisibility cloak back on and moved stealthily down the aisle towards the door. Madame Pince appeared directly in front of
    him, her eyes narrowed behind her thick glasses. Harry flung himself against the rows of books, holding his breath and hoping
    she wouldn't run into him. Madame Pince prowled the aisle, her eyes searching the area where Harry had been only moments before.
    He had noticed, a few minutes too late, that he had left one of the books on the floor. The strict librarian picked it up,
    touching its cover lovingly and casting an angry glance around her, as if looking for the student who had left one of her
    precious books on the ground. She placed it back on the shelf and continued walking. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and
    slipped out the door of the library. He reached the statue where the passageway ended and began to panic. He didn't know
    how to open it again.
    "Damn it," he muttered, running his hand along one side. He felt a button and pushed it, and the door swung open. Looking around
    to make sure that no one was watching, Harry pulled himself inside and ran back upstairs to his bedroom. He opened the trapdoor
    cautiously, afraid that perhaps Ron would be in the room, but he wasn't. Harry threw his invisibility cloak back inside his
    trunk only moments before the door opened. He spun around to see Ginny.
    "Oh... hey," he said, trying to breathe normally and act as though nothing had happened.
    "I was just wondering where you were," Ginny said simply. "No one had seen you for a while." Harry noticed the bedcurtains
    surrounding his bed were still closed.
    "I was, er, taking a nap," he said, shrugging. Ginny giggled.
    "You sure slept a lot today," she told him.
    "I was tired," Harry said in an off-hand manner. "Anyways, what's everyone else doing?" Ginny rolled her eyes.
    "I went down to the regular common room for a while. Ron and Hermione are in the Head Girl's room, I don't even want to know
    what they're doing," she said conversationally, plopping down on Ron's bed. Harry chuckled. "So, how are you and Rachel?"
    Ginny asked.
    "Er..." Harry didn't really have an answer. _I haven't talked to her in days,_ he thought guiltily. _I probably should._
    "I'll take that as a not very good then?" Ginny commented, smirking.
    "Well, she had some family members die in the attack... I don't really know how she's been holding up..." Ginny's eyes widened.
    "HARRY! Her family died and you haven't talked to her?" she asked incredulously. Guilt was seeping through every portion
    of his body.
    "Well, er... yeah," he confessed. Ginny rolled her eyes.
    "Boys," she muttered. "Well, you'd better owl her soon, or she'll be furious." With that, she left the room. Harry glanced
    at Hedwig's cage; she was off hunting right now.
    "I'll write her a letter later," he mumbled, pulling out the few notes he had managed to take from the Spanish history books.
    After ten minutes he sighed in frustration. Nothing he had found had anything to do with Dulcinea Rosalind Garcia. _Maybe
    I'll ask Hermione if she's ever heard of her, once she's done snogging Ron,_ he thought sarcastically, laying back on his
    bed. _A real nap isn't such a bad idea..._
    *************************
    

Next Chapter 


	14. Chapter 15


    **Chapter 15: Disagreements
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "And hence it is, that he who attempts to get another
    Man into his Absolute Power, does thereby put himself
    into a State of War with him."
    -John Locke, _The Second Treatise of Government_
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    The next morning dawned bright and beautiful. Harry stared out his window wistfully; the students were still required to
    stay inside of the building for the remainder of the week, though some of the restrictions had been loosened. There had been
    no further attacks, but Dumbledore was still worried about safety, and classes would remain cancelled for the rest of the week.
    Harry dressed quietly, trying not to wake Ron. It was very early; since Harry had been sleeping so much (there was nothing
    else for him to do), he was completely awake at nearly 6 AM. Silently, he tiptoed out to the Heads' common room with a Defense
    Against the Dark Arts book he had gotten for his birthday a few years ago. He was surprised to see that Hermione was also
    awake.
    "Hey Mione," he greeted her, sliding into the chair next to her. "Why're you up so early?" She shrugged, looking up from her
    own book.
    "Nothing else to do," she said with a sigh. "Did you manage to get to the library yesterday?" Harry grinned.
    "Actually, yeah I did. Dobby's great with those Hogwarts secrets."
    "Did you find what you were looking for? Do you know what the prophecy means?" she asked eagerly. Harry shook his head and
    Hermione sat back in her chair, looking disappointed.
    "I'll explain to you what's happened so far, and please don't think I'm a nutter because of it," he said slowly. Hermione
    nodded encouragingly. "I've been having these dreams-"
    "Like the ones from last year?" Ron asked with a yawn as he strolled into the common room. Harry looked up in surprise.
    "Blimey, it's 6:00 in the morning, what are we all doing up?"
    "Harry's trying to tell me something important about the prophecy, for your information," Hermione said coldly. "So either
    leave or stop interrupting." Ron sat down without saying another word, simply rubbing his eyes tiredly.
    "Er, so like I was saying, I had these dreams. Not like the ones I used to have. In these ones, it was always the same woman
    in this white room-"
    Ron snickered. "I hope you haven't been telling Rachel about this, she might not appreciate you having dreams about other
    women!" Hermione sent him a death glare and he shut up immediately.
    "Please continue, Harry," she said pleasantly, still staring daggers at Ron.
    "This lady, it was always the same person, would be in my dreams every night. And she would tell me that I was the only one
    who can defeat Voldemort and that he is planning on using this ancient form of magic as a weapon." Ron shivered at the
    sound of his name. "She kept appearing, every night. Finally, the night after Hermione gave the prophecy, she appeared in
    my dreams and I told her I was just imagining her. When I woke up, she was actually there." Hermione's eyes widened and
    Ron looked at Harry in disbelief.
    "What do you mean, she was actually there? Are you sure this wasn't another part of the dream?" he asked slowly.
    "NO! She's a ghost, Ron, she was hovering above my bed."
    "A ghost? A ghost is haunting your dreams?" he asked incredulously. "Don't you think that's a little odd-"
    "No, Ron, it isn't!" Hermione argued. "Remember the prophecy? There's one person and one ghost who are supposed to know the
    power that Voldemort will have! It's Harry and this woman." She turned to Harry. "I don't suppose you know her name?"
    "Dulcinea Rosalind Garcia," Harry rattled off. Hermione's eyes narrowed in thought as she tried to remember if she had
    ever heard that name before.
    "It sounds familiar... I know we've talked about her in history before..."
    "What about Rey Ciro? That was her fiance." Hermione's jaw dropped open, but Harry didn't notice and kept on talking. "I guess
    he forced her to marry him or something. And she said that Rey Ciro's magic has already affected my life, don't you think I
    would have noticed if it did?" he asked. Then he noticed the expression on Hermione's face.
    "Mione, are you okay?" Ron asked gently. "Helloooo?" He waved a hand in front of her face.
    "She's right, Harry. It has affected your life... because of me," Hermione finally said, in a soft whisper.
    "Er, how would that be?" Harry asked. Hermione's hand rose to the thin gold chain around her neck, and her fingers closed
    around the locket.
    "La Gema de Dominio," she said simply, shaking her head. "Oh, I should have realized this sooner!" The realization hit
    Harry very hard.
    "Dulcinea Rosalind Garcia... the woman that Rey Ciro tried to control... that was her! SHE was the one that threw La Gema
    de Dominio into the sea!" he cried, finally understanding. Ron looked between his two best friends in utter confusion.
    "Wha- what's going on?" he asked, ruffling his hair. "What are you two on about?"
    "The stone that Voldemort was controlling Hermione with last year, La Gema de Dominio, was created by this Rey Ciro guy.
    He made it to control the woman he wanted to marry, which was this Garcia lady that's been in my dreams all the time. She
    realized it before they married and threw it into the sea!" Harry explained excitedly. "He gave it to her in a bracelet,
    it was one of the stones! I've seen the bracelet, she still was wearing it, and one of the stones was missing!"
    "And he has some other power that You-Know-Who is going to try to use against you?" Ron asked, still trying to understand.
    "Yes," Harry said urgently. "It's a spell actually, Dulcinea said-"
    The door to Hermione's bedroom banged open. All three of them turned around to see Ginny holding a piece of parchment.
    "There's been another attack," she whispered.
    *********************
    Tonks had taken Remus' advice and filled out an application at the Universal Institute for Magic. Though she wasn't really
    sure what she wanted to do, she felt that she couldn't just sit at home and think about the loss of her mother. The man who
    had interviewed her was supposed to contact her today, and she sat near her fireplace, wondering if he would floo in or use
    the muggle telephone. She smiled to herself. He had been very interested to learn that she was a half-blood; he seemed to
    pride himself on his knowledge of muggle objects. _A little like Arthur Weasley,_ she thought to herself, grinning. The
    flames in her fireplace suddenly glowed green and she stood up expectantly. Instead of someone from the Institute, however,
    she was suprised to see Kingsley Shaklebolt's worried face peering up at her from the grate.
    "Tonks, I know you've been really upset lately, and if you can't come I'll understand, but there's been another attack-"
    "I'm coming," she answered defiantly. "Where do I apparate to?"
    "Diagon Alley. Just to warn you, I haven't been there yet, but I've heard it's really bad." Tonks nodded grimly, slipping her
    wand into her pocket. She closed her eyes and apparated immediately.
    Tonks' eyes widened in horror. _Sure, Kingsley said it was bad, but I didn't think it would be like this..._ The charred
    remains of buildings covered the streets. Tonks immediately saw two children, obviously too young to attend Hogwarts, huddling
    in the doorway to a shop. She hurried over to them.
    "You two, come inside here at once," she insisted, pointing her wand at the door. "_Alohomora!_" The lock sprung open
    and she pushed the little boy and girl inside. A woman's voice cried out from inside the building.
    "Stay out!" she screeched, running towards the door. "What do you think you're doing?"
    "Listen lady, just watch these kids." She headed towards the door. "I'm going back out there." She pulled her wand out of her
    pocket and held it ready. As she walked back onto the deserted streets of Diagon Alley, Tonks could feel the fear rising in
    her chest. _I can't do this for much longer,_ she thought to herself. _I just can't handle it anymore._
    The silence was eerie; thin wisps of black smoke rose from the smouldering ruins of a building nearby. Tonks could hear spells
    just around the corner richoceting off buildings and other objects. Taking a deep breath, she rushed forward. Death Eaters were
    everywhere. A stocky-looking man in a black cloak pulled away from the melee and focused his attention on her, raising his
    wand.
    "Expelliarmus!" Tonks cried immediately, catching him off guard. She quickly performed the body-binding curse on him. A male
    voice swore loudly to her left; Tonks spun around to see Dawlish knocked backward by a bolt of orange light. She cast a few
    quick spells and the Death Eater lay still.
    "Thanks," Dawlish gasped as Tonks pulled him off the ground.
    "No problem," Tonks muttered, turning around. She cried out as a Death Eater, standing only a few feet behind her, swung his
    fist angrily into her face. She fell noiselessly to the ground, her world going black, as the battle around her continued.
    ***
    "Nymphadora? Tonks, sweetheart, are you all right?" Tonks opened her bleary eyes to see the concerned face of Balin Dawlish.
    She opened her mouth to speak but all that came out was a moan. "I wouldn't try to move just yet, I'm sure you've got a bit
    of a headache after that!" he said gently. "Do you want anything? Can I get you something?"
    "Water," Tonks mumbled. Dawlish hurried over to the sink and brought back a cup. Tonks took a small sip.
    "Where... why am I here?" she wondered aloud, looking at her surroundings. She realized she was in a small room in the Order's
    headquarters.
    "There were lots of injuries," Dawlish said softly. "We knew you were going to be okay, so we just took you back to headquarters.
    St. Mungo's is full," he said anxiously. "Do you feel all right?" He leaned in closer to her.
    "I'll be fine," Tonks mumbled, turning away from him. He was so close that he was making her uncomfortable.
    "You saved me back there," he whispered. "Thank you, Nymphadora." He brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes. Tonks gulped and
    pulled away from him, pushing herself back into the bed.
    "You're welcome," she said quietly. "I'm really tired, I think I'd like to-" Suddenly, his lips were on hers. Tonks' heart
    was racing. _What in Merlin's name is he DOING?_ her mind screamed. She pulled back swiftly, but Dawlish just smiled.
    "Get well soon," he said, leaving the room. As he closed the door behind him, Tonks shivered in disgust. Sure, he was a nice
    guy, but he just wasn't her type. She couldn't think of him in a romantic way. _Trying to kiss me when I'm half dead,__ she
    thought angrily. She rolled over and fell fast asleep.
    *****************
    The Gryffindor common room was a highly stressful place. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had left their small Heads' common
    room to visit their friends in the main room, but most students were frantically trying to get more information about the
    attacks. The letter Ginny had received had hardly any information, but no one knew anything else. The portrait door was
    locked again and the students were being kept inside of their dormitories. Harry anxiously paced the room, praying that no
    one from the Order would be lost in this battle. He collapsed into a chair next to Hermione, trying desperately to lighten
    the mood.
    "Are you doing homework, Hermione? What is that, an essay for Binns? It must be ten feet long!" he joked. Hermione looked
    up, smiling a little.
    "Actually, it's a letter," she said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. Ron, who had been chatting with Seamus, stopped dead.
    Harry felt his stomach drop; a fight was brewing. __Oh no.... Why did I have to ask?_
    "A letter to who?" he asked dangerously. Hermione raised her eyebrows.
    "It's to Viktor, actually," she said calmly. Ron clenched his fists in anger.
    "You're still writing to him?!" he burst out.
    "I can write to whomever I want, Ron," she replied, dropping the letter and glaring at him. "Just because I'm dating you doesn't
    mean I can't have friends!" The entire common room went silent.
    "You can have friends... just as long as they're not male!" Ron yelled back.
    "Is that so?" Hermione asked angrily, her face red. "Fine then. Maybe we shouldn't be dating." Grabbing her half-finished
    letter, she stalked up the stairs to her bedroom. Ron sat on the sofa next to Harry.
    "Why did she do that?" he asked furiously, glaring around the room as if looking for something to throw.
    "Ron, I'm sure they're just friends..." Harry tried. Ron still looked mad. "Not to interfere or anything but... You really
    can't tell her who she can be friends with. I'm male, she's friends with me," he said, half-jokingly. Ron sighed.
    "Yeah, that was a pretty stupid thing to say. But we've been dating forever, and she's still-"
    "Ron, why don't you go talk to her about it?" Harry suggested. Ron gave a half-hearted laugh.
    "Because I'm an ignorant berk and I'll probably just make it worse," he replied, sinking into the couch.
    ******************
    

Next Chapter 


	15. Chapter 16


    **Chapter 16: Making Up
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "The course of true love never did run smooth."
    -William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream, I:1
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    **I'm SOOO sorry I haven't updated in such a long time! Things keep coming up. I'm thinking updates will probably only
    be once a week for a while now. Be warned, this hasn't been proofread very well, so there may be errors! I just wanted
    to update as soon as possible. As usual, read and REVIEW!!**
    The attacks had been brutal, and even more Hogwarts students had lost family members and friends. However, classes had
    started again, and as a whole the school would have been normal if it weren't for the eerie silence that filled the hallways
    in between classes or the half-empty classrooms. Professor McGonagall looked out at her class sadly one afternoon, taking note
    of the eight students still in attendance.
    "This is dreadful," she muttered to herself, dismissing the class.
    "Are any of them coming back?" Ron asked quietly. McGonagall sighed deeply.
    "I'm not sure, Mr. Weasley. Many of them have left permanently; for some, it's just too hard to be so far away from home during
    a tragedy. Others should be back in a few weeks, after... well, funerals and such." Ron nodded and Harry felt a lump in his
    throat. The trio was silent as they walked back to the Gryffindor tower. _Poor Rachel,_ Harry thought. He still hadn't
    seen her since they had been allowed to attend classes once more; he had heard from Hannah Abbot that she had left to go to
    the funeral for her aunt and cousin._I really need to write her a letter._ Leaving Ron and Hermione, he entered his
    bedroom and pulled out a quill and some parchment.
    _Dear Rachel,
    I am really sorry I haven't talked to you lately, but
    you know how we were stuck in our dormitories. Hope
    you're holding up all right after your loss. I miss
    you, come back to school soon. I know I'm not great
    with emotional things like this, but if you ever need
    to talk to someone, I'm always here to listen. Stay
    strong, we'll all get through this together.
    I love you,
    Harry_
    He gulped as he reread the letter. It all sounded fine until that last line. _I love you_. He thought for a moment; he had
    never told her that before, and it probably wasn't romantic for the first time to be in a letter. _But I do love her, and
    she needs to hear it right now,_ he told himself firmly, folding the letter and tying it to Hedwig's outstretched leg.
    Gently stroking Hedwig's head, he gave her a sad smile.
    "Make sure she gets this, okay?" he said. Hedwig gave a soft hoot and flew off. Harry left his room and walked back out to
    the common room.
    "This is the bad thing about having classes again, it means more homework," Ron grumbled, flipping through his Transfiguration
    book. Harry shook his head.
    "I think I'd rather have homework at this point. Doing nothing for a week drove me insane."
    *******************
    Rachel sat listlessly in the stifling funeral home as the muggle priest droned on and on in Spanish. The two closed caskets
    in front of her were all she could see, the symbols of life that had been taken so violently. She didn't want to deal with
    this; she wished she could just cut this part of her life out completely. She was emotionally drained; all around her, people
    were sobbing, but she could no longer cry. Her eyes once again focused on the motionless bodies in her view. The priest's words
    were becoming unintelligible to her, the sound of his voice blending with the odd drumming noise in her ears. Her heart beat
    faster, and the room blurred as she swayed in her chair. It was hot, too hot. She needed to get out. Slipping out a side door,
    she hurried outside and leaned against the cool brick wall. The air outside was crisp and cool, and she breathed it in greedily.
    A snowy white owl flew down in front of her. She recognized it immediately as Harry's owl and placed her hand to her forehead.
    Untying the letter, she skimmed it quickly. She felt the anger and hatred boiling up inside of her. _You miss me, huh? Then
    why haven't you talked to me in over a week? When you KNEW I was upset?_ she thought, kicking a stone on the ground.
    "He loves me," she said bitterly, rolling her eyes. _I'm not so sure about that one._
    "Rachel," a voice said quietly behind her. She spun around to find herself staring into her own light green eyes. A man with
    bright blonde hair stood only feet away from her.
    "Dad," she whispered, taking a stumbling step towards him. He smiled gently and embraced her.
    "I haven't seen you in years, but I would recognize you anywhere. My only daughter," he said fondly, lifting her chin to look
    into the eyes that were identical to his. "You don't really want to be here any longer, do you?" he asked. She shook her head,
    a single tear winding its way down her face. "Come with me. We'll have a nice dinner." The two walked to a deserted area and
    apparated immediately.
    ******************
    Tension was still obvious between Ron and Hermione. She refused to cut off all communication with Krum, and Ron refused to
    talk to her. Harry had tried to talk to Hermione, but he knew that Ron was really at fault. That was his next challenge.
    "Come on, mate, you've got to get over this!" he told Ron as they walked together to the greenhouses. Hermione had made up
    some excuse to miss breakfast, probably just to avoid seeing Ron, or so Harry assumed. Ron folded his arms stubbornly.
    "She embarrassed me in front of the entire common room," he said firmly. Harry sighed in anger.
    "Ron, you embarrassed yourself! It's time for you to get over it! She's right and you're wrong," he cried. Ron looked up, a
    defeated expression on his face.
    "She's right and you're wrong," he echoed. "That's the way it always is, isn't it?" Harry let out a chuckle and Ron began to
    laugh as well, and before they knew it they were both laughing until tears ran down their faces. They entered the greenhouse
    together and saw Hermione already inside, giving them a reproving glance for coming to class at the last minute. They wound
    through the crowd of students to come to her side. Ron stood behind her and whispered in her ear.
    "Mione, can we talk after class?" She nodded politely, then pulled out her notebook and began taking notes on the lecture.
    ***
    When Herbology was over, Harry stayed back to wait for Neville, who was checking up on one of his plants that he had decided
    to leave in the greenhouse.
    "So how come it's not in the dormitory?" Harry asked, staring at the sickly-looking cactus that Neville had brought to school
    two years ago. It had nearly tripled in size.
    "Well, you've seen it squirt that stinksap before... It hasn't quite reached maturity yet, it's going through sort of an
    adolescent stage, if you will, and it seems to squirt that stuff at random now..." He reached out toward the plant and it
    stirred. Harry flinched, but nothing happened. "I think it would be better to leave it here for a few months until it's
    completely mature. I think Dean and Seamus might get mad if our room was full of that. It smells horrible." He wrinkled his
    nose. "Well, I'm done. Ready for lunch?"
    "I'm starved," Harry said, following him outside. He saw Ron and Hermione quite far ahead of them and to his relief they were
    both not only talking, but also smiling. He rolled his eyes thinking about their love/hate relationship, but felt a pang of
    emptiness in his own heart. He was surprised to realize that he really missed Rachel. She hadn't yet responded to the letter
    he had sent her yesterday. _I'll send another tonight,_ he told himself firmly.
    ***
    That night, however, wasn't quite as Harry had expected it to be. He spent hours trying to research information for his
    Potions essay due the next morning, and then realized (at 10 PM) that he had a second essay due as well. When he finally
    collapsed into his bed, it was past midnight. His dark, dreamless sleep was interrupted by a face that he had come to know
    as familiar.
    "Hola, senorita," he said, grinning at Madame Garcia as she smiled back at him.
    "Speaking Spanish now, are we Harry?" she asked jokingly.
    "How come you're in my dreams, if I know you're a real ghost now?" he asked. Dulcinea shrugged.
    "You are tired, I didn't want to disrupt your rest," she said simply.
    "This is weird," Harry commented, looking around the room he was in. It was completely white, as far as he could see in any
    direction.
    "Mr. Potter, I haven't come to talk about dreams, I've come to talk about action," she said sternly.
    "What do you mean?" Harry asked.
    "You know you are the chosen one. You know what Voldemort plans to do, and that it cannot happen. You must prevent it."
    "I know, I know!" he cried. "Stop telling me that. You're just making it worse."
    "I didn't come to tell you that tonight. I came to discuss your plan."
    "Er.. what plan?" he asked, confused.
    "Exactly," she cut in smoothly. "Do you really think your next chance encounter with the Dark Lord will be the one in which
    you overthrow him? If you wait for him to attack you, you are not only risking your own life, but the entire world. That
    conflict would be one on his terms; we want a fight on your terms. You must develop a plan and lure him to you, instead of
    waiting for him to lure you in. You must be prepared, Harry." He stared at her as if she were insane.
    "Are you crazy?! You want me to stage a fight with Voldemort? That'll be my only chance, and when I die, I'll be letting
    everyone down!"
    "You mustn't think like that," Dulcinea said gently but eagerly. "You need to have this battle. The prophecy must be fulfilled.
    Better to have it when you are prepared than when Voldemort is expecting it." Harry sighed.
    "Listen, Garcia, you're a nutter," he said, pushing her out of his mind and continuing his dreamless sleep.
    ********************
    

Next Chapter 


	16. Chapter 17


    **Chapter 17: A New Plan
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "It is a very necessary part of foresight to know that one cannot foresee everything."
    _The Social Contract_, Jean-Jacques Rousseau
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    Harry awoke the next morning feeling exhausted. His midnight chat with Dulcinea had made him restless, and he had barely
    been able to sleep for the rest of the night. His mind had been endlessly turning her words over again and again.
    _"You must develop a plan and lure him to you, instead of waiting for him to lure you in. You must be prepared, Harry."_
    Pulling himself up onto his elbows, he glanced up at the clock. It was nearly time to get up, so he dragged himself into the
    bathroom for a shower. When he emerged, he was shocked to see Rachel lounging on the couch in the Heads' common room.
    "Rachel?! Er, how'd you get up here?" he asked, feeling embarassed as he wrapped the towel tighter around his waist.
    "Ginny let me in," she said cooly, turning to face him.
    "Um, so how've you been?" Harry asked nervously as he ruffled his still-wet hair. His other hand clung tightly to the towel,
    holding it in place.
    "I'm doing fine," she said calmly, surveying his towel-clad body. "I just wanted to come up and say hello, tell you I was back.
    I haven't talked to you in such a long time."
    _Please don't be mad,_ he thought desperately. "I know Rach, and I'm really sorry. Are you upset?" She sighed.
    "I don't know right now," she said, the peaceful facade finally cracking as tears welled up in her eyes. "With all these
    attacks, my family members... murdered.... the funeral, you ignoring me...." _So she does hate me,_ Harry thought as his
    stomach dropped. "I met my father last night," Rachel mumbled, trailing off a bit.
    "You WHAT?!" Harry exclaimed. "Are you okay? What did he do to you?" he demanded. Rachel looked up angrily.
    "What's that supposed to mean? He's a very nice man, as are my brothers. We had dinner together. It was nice." Harry closed
    his eyes in horror.
    "Rachel, they're Death Eaters! You can't be talking to them! Next thing you know, you'll be kidnapped or worse-"
    "You have NO proof of that! They're perfectly normal!" she exclaimed, rising out of her chair. "You can't just go around
    accusing people-"
    "I saw your brothers take the Dark Mark in my dream last year!" Harry argued. "I know it happened, I know it was real!"
    "It was a dream, Harry. Get over it," she responded coldly.
    "It was real," he said through gritted teeth. "It was not something I made up."
    "Harry, mate..." Harry wheeled around to see Ron standing behind him. "Not to listen in on your coversation or anything, but...
    not everything you've seen in your dreams was real." He looked fearfully into Harry's eyes. Harry felt a pang of guilt in his
    chest. _Sirius,_ he remembered. _So that's what he means, just because Voldemort broke into my mind that one time..._
    "I'm done with this conversation," he retorted, stalking out of the room.
    ***************************
    Tonks was glad to be out of London. Muggle or not, the city now held some bad memories. She had taken the job at the Universal
    Institute for Magic, and it was refreshing. Teaching classes was challenging; she was always researching some new material,
    grading essays, or designing new projects for her students. After a few weeks, though, the constant activity slowed, and
    the amount of free time began to grow. She stared out her window at the pounding rain and thought about what she should do
    that night. _Maybe I'll rent a muggle movie... wow, this is pathetic. It's Friday night and I have nothing to do._
    A sharp rap on her office door broke her from her trance. "Come in," she said loudly. A young man peeked his head around
    the doorway.
    "Hey baby, how ya doin?" he asked in a singsong voice. Tonks had to laugh at the sight. Rich Marrion was about her age, maybe
    a few years older. He was the Beginning Transfiguration professor for the Institution, and he was always a bit off-beat; today
    he was wearing corderoy pants with a nice sweater and an ugly orange tie. His hair was spiked up as if he had been electrocuted.
    "'Baby', huh? I thought I grew out of that stage 25 years ago," she retorted. Rich grinned.
    "I'm just joking, you know that. What are you doing tonight?" he asked, looking up at her. Tonks was surprised to see the
    first serious look she had ever seen on his face.
    "Nothing yet," she said, raising her eyebrows. The cocky grin returned to his face.
    "Want to go out for drinks after work? It's been a long week," he said, rolling his eyes.
    "Sure," Tonks replied. They talked for a few more minutes before he left. She grinned to herself. _I have a date,_ she
    thought giddily.
    ***
    Remus Lupin was in a bad mood. He had overheard the Transfiguration Professor, Rich or whatever his name was, bragging about
    his date with Tonks tonight in the teachers' lounge. _The cocky bastard,_ he thought angrily, throwing some essays into
    his briefcase. He sighed to himself. He knew why he felt this way. _I should have asked her first,_ he told himself calmly.
    _It's my own fault._ He closed his briefcase and left, locking his office door behind him. _He's her age, that's why.
    I'm too old for her._
    *****************************
    "...so then she tells me she thinks my dreams are fake and that her brothers really aren't Death Eaters!" Harry exclaimed,
    retelling the story from that morning to Hermione, one of the few people close to him who he was still talking to. He was
    so angry with Ron for bringing up Sirius, that he had stopped communicating with him completely. Rachel was still so mad
    that he had suggested her family was full of Death Eaters that she had not even looked at Harry since that morning.
    "Well, I think your dream was real," Hermione spoke up. Harry felt relief rush through his body.
    "Thanks, now at least one of my friends doesn't think I'm crazy..."
    "Personally, I don't think you should be worried about Rachel, I think you should be worried about Voldemort," Hermione
    said bluntly.
    "I'm always worried about Voldemort, what do you want me to do?" he asked her, feeling irritated. Hermione sighed.
    "I don't know Harry, maybe you should be taking extra Defense lessons or something. How can you possibly just sit here and
    wait?" she said helplessly. A lightbulb went on in Harry's head: Dulcinea had been talking about this exact subject last night.
    "Well, you know that ghost that talks to me in my dreams..." He glanced around to make sure no one was listening; if they
    were, they would probably think he was even more insane than they had thought before. Luckily, that corner of the library was
    empty."Well, she told me I should have a plan. Be prepared." Hermione nodded, a smile appearing on her face.
    "Exactly what I was saying, Harry!" she exclaimed happily.
    "She... she also said I should plan the battle with Voldemort. You know, the..." He gulped. "The final battle." Hermione
    considered this for a minute.
    "It would take a lot of planning, Harry. But I think it's a logical idea. It could only improve your chances at winning."
    She smiled at him sadly.
    "Stop looking at me like you feel bad for me," he said angrily. "I'm sick of this. I don't want sympathy."
    "I know that, Harry. Just calm down. We're going to work this out, and everything will go fine. However, I think we should
    have a group of people planning this, you know? Part of the DA maybe," she said thoughtfully. "We would want every detail
    covered." Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment. "Let's make a list."
    "Okay... you, me-"
    "Ron," Hermione said firmly, staring at Harry.
    "Yes, Ron, I know. I'll apologize later," he said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand.
    "Ginny, Neville, and Luna? They were with us in the Department of Mysteries, I think they could help a lot," Hermione commented.
    "Yeah," Harry answered, thinking hard. "What about Rachel?" Hermione sighed.
    "Frankly, I don't trust her right now. I think it's better if we leave her out of this, at least for now."
    "I don't trust her either," Harry said sadly.
    **********************
    After his last class, Harry hurried off to find Ron and apologize. He found his friend standing in a hallway talking to Dean
    and Seamus.
    "Hey Ron, can I talk to you?" he mumbled, as Dean and Seamus moved down the hallway. Ron stopped walking and faced Harry.
    "I just... I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have gotten mad at you this morning." Ron nodded.
    "It's okay, I shouldn't have been listening in on your conversation in the first place. Or talking about stuff I don't know,
    Or reminding you of Sirius..."
    "Nah, it's fine," Harry said, shrugging. Inwardly, he was relieved that it had gone so well. _Now Rachel's going to be
    another story..._
    ***
    He found her sooner than he would have thought. She was standing near the entrance to the Great Hall as the trio approached
    for dinner.
    "Go talk to her," Hermione said, nudging Harry on the shoulder. Harry sighed.
    "I'm going, I'm going," he muttered under his breath. "Hey, Rach," he said stiffly as he approached her. She nodded slightly
    in his direction but did not respond. "Look, I'm really sorry about this morning, I didn't mean to make you upset about your
    family or anything-"
    "Exactly, Harry. My family," she said angrily, causing several other people entering the Great Hall to look up with interest.
    "You'll just never understand, will you? I spent my entire life living in a country that wasn't mine, speaking a language
    that wasn't mine, living a life that was not MINE!" she screeched shrilly. The pair was attracting lots of attention now.
    "Finally, I have what I've always wanted! My real family - they speak English, they're not muggles, they are decent wizards
    and I don't want you insulting them!" She took several deep breathes as she fought back tears. "You just can't understand,"
    she repeated, stalking off into the Great Hall. Harry leaned back against the stone wall of the hallway and closed his eyes
    painfully.
    "You're wrong, Rachel," he whispered, staring at the ceiling. "I know exactly what it's like not to have a family."
    *************************
    


	17. Chapter 18


    **Chapter 18: Death's Complications
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "Unbeing dead isn't being alive."
    -e.e. cummings
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    Ron, as the new Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, was enthusiastic about starting practices and did so earlier than the other
    teams. Harry wasn't at all upset by this; he needed something, anything, to take his mind off his recent stress and fight
    with Rachel.
    He walked out onto the Quidditch pitch with Ron on the first day of tryouts. The wind was bitter and cold; the start of the
    season had been pushed back due to the attacks. Now, nearly halfway through November, the air was crisp and cool. Harry
    shivered slightly, pulling his cloak tighter around him.
    "Where is everyone?" Ron asked, looking impatiently at his watch. Though he was nervous, Harry also thought he seemed very
    excited.
    "We're 20 minutes early, Ron," Harry pointed out, glancing at his own watch. He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm
    himself.
    "Wonderful day for Quidditch practice, huh, mate?" Ron asked, opening the case containing the balls. Harry scoffed.
    "Ron, it's bloody freezing out here! What are you talking about?" Harry said through chattering teeth. Ron laughed.
    "You should've worn a jumper. Really, I don't think it's that bad." He craned his neck to see around the goalpost. "Look,
    Harry! Here come some of them now!" Harry peered in the direction Ron was looking and saw that he was correct; several
    people were walking towards them, carrying brooms.
    "Great," Harry muttered. "Maybe once we get moving my body will thaw out."
    "Hey Kirke, Sloper!" Ron called, waving to two boys walking toward the field. "Glad you could make it!"
    "Of course," Andrew Kirke said with a lopsided grin. "I wouldn't miss this for the world."
    "Just hope it doesn't get cancelled again, after all those attacks, you know..." Jack Sloper said gloomily.
    "I'm sure it won't, I mean, there's already been attacks and they haven't cancelled it yet," Ginny Weasley said, walking
    up to the crowd.
    "I hope not," Ron said darkly. A few more students began to gather; Euan Ambercrombie, Lavendar Brown, some third and fourth
    years, and...
    "Hermione?!" Ron asked incredulously. "What're you doing here?" She shrugged.
    "I thought I'd try out. Is that okay?" she asked testily.
    "Oh, well uh, sure... you just never seemed like the Quidditch type..." Ron stuttered.
    "I've never seen you fly before, Hermione," Ginny said politely. Hermione gave a wide smile.
    "Well, I've been practicing. We'll see how it goes." Ron stepped back from the crowd, feeling a bit dazed.
    "All right, everyone, we're going to start with some warm ups. Now if you'll just mount your brooms..."
    Ron led the group through some routine drills for quite some time. He then organized everyone into teams and had a practice
    game, trying out different players in different positions. After a while, he flew up towards where Harry was.
    "Mate, what are you thinking?" he asked in a low voice, scanning the Quidditch players below them as they zoomed back and
    forth on their brooms. Harry grinned.
    "You're the captain, not me," Harry replied innocently, shrugging. "Why, I don't even know if I'm going to make it on the team
    this year, I haven't caught the snitch at all." He smiled sarcastically and Ron smacked him on the shoulder.
    "Harry, stop being such a git. You know you're on the team. Now, what do you think about the players?"
    "Well, first off, Kirke and Sloper for sure... they're doing well... Ginny and Lavendar have been doing fine as chasers..."
    "You know what I meant," Ron whispered. "What about Hermione?" Harry watched her as she flew across the field, nearly colliding
    with a third year and only seconds later narrowly avoided a bludger.
    "Er... well..." Ron snorted with laughter.
    "Yeah, that's kind of what I was thinking. She's horrible, mate. How can I tell her that?" Ron asked desperately.
    "Well, don't put it that way," Harry said absently, watching as Kirke scored on the current keeper, Euan Ambercrombie. Ron
    rolled his eyes.
    "I try to ask you for girl advice Harry, and this is what I get?" he said sarcastically. Harry laughed out loud.
    "I doubt I'm the best one to ask for that type of thing," Harry replied.
    *******************
    Ron stayed up late that night preparing the list of members for that year's Quidditch team. Harry tried to stay awake as well;
    he had been doing his Transfiguration essay, but found himself drifting off to sleep every few minutes. Eventually, he stood
    up and walked to his bed.
    "Ron, I'm tired," he complained. "Aren't you done with that yet? It should have been easy to decide, I thought it was obvious
    who was good and who wasn't-"
    "I've been done for an hour," Ron said gloomily. "I've just been trying to figure out how to tell Hermione she didn't make
    the team." Harry tried hard not to laugh; he had to disguise his chuckle with a cough.
    "Ron, I'm sure she'll understand. Just go post the sheet in the common room and then go to bed!" Ron shook his head.
    "I'll put it up in a few days... after I figure out what to say to Hermione."
    Harry lay back on his bed and fell asleep almost immediately. Just as quickly, he found himself face-to-face with none other
    than Dulcinea Rosalind Garcia. He looked into her face, feeling nervous.
    "Don't be worried, Harry, we just have some things to discuss." Harry nodded, but his anxiety did not subside.
    "How will I know what to do in this final battle? Where it should be? When-"
    "April 27," Dulcinea interrupted smoothly. Harry looked at her in shock.
    "You picked a DATE for it?" he asked in amazement, feeling the knots in his stomach tighten.
    "Well, it's a good starting point, knowing what day you want it to happen," she said nonchalantly. "For the other answers to
    your questions, you will know what to do because you will start learning new spells. That's your next task, and that's why I
    think it should be that far away." Harry nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "As for where... well, where do you think
    the best place would be?" she asked kindly. Harry thought for a moment.
    "Not Hogwarts or Hogsmeade, too many people... err... probably not Diagon Alley either, and any muggle place is out of the
    question..." Dulcinea smiled sweetly.
    "Dear, I think you're missing the point of this... How exactly to you intend to defeat him?"
    "Avada Kedavra?" Harry asked, feeling as though she was right. _I don't know what she means, and I really AM missing her
    point..._
    "What I'm trying to say, Harry, is that I don't think a simple curse can kill him. After all, he's spent so many years trying
    to make himself immortal." She looked very nervous, Harry noticed. With a sigh, she continued. "I'm suggesting the Veil of
    Death in the Department of Mysteries." Harry was taken aback.
    "But... what-what if it doesn't work? I don't even really know what that thing does!"
    "It's a very ancient work of Dark Magic, from before even my time," Dulcinea responded quietly. "Its exact meaning has never
    been fully discovered, because as you know, once one passes through the veil, they can never return to this world." Harry
    didn't respond. _The same thing that took Sirius' life is going to save the world?_ he thought to himself, feeling
    confused. It just didn't seem to work out.
    "So you really don't know much about the veil?" Harry asked in an unconfident voice. Dulcinea smiled at him sympathetically.
    "My dear boy, I know there's many books on the subject. Research it if you'd like, if it makes you feel better. I just don't
    believe that there's any other solution." Harry nodded.
    "Thanks, Dulcinea," he mumbled, before the scene slipped away from his eyes and he found himself once again in a state of
    blissful slumber.
    *********************
    The next day was hectic and chaotic for Harry. He woke up late, couldn't find a matching sock, spilled his pumpkin juice
    at breakfast, got stung by an evil plant in Herbology, and mixed his potion wrong so that it boiled over, covering the table
    with a thick, sticky red substance. Hermione gave him a sympathetic look from across the room; her potion was light pink and
    had green steam rising from its surface, just like it was supposed to. Harry stared at the red gunk in defeat.
    "Twenty points from Gryffindor for attempting to destroy school property," Snape drawled from his desk. He swished his wand
    and the mess vanished. "No points for you today, Potter." Harry slumped down into his chair, feeling overwhelmed. The class
    ended soon after and Harry walked, zombie-like, out to the hallway to join Ron and Hermione.
    "Sorry about your potion," Ron said quietly. "Snape's such a git, 'destroying school property', when he can clean it up with
    one spell..."
    "You added too much wormwood," Hermione stated matter-of-factly. "It's only supposed to be one teaspoon, you know."
    "Thank you, Hermione," Harry said through gritted teeth. The trio had reached the entrance to the Great Hall, but Harry found
    he really didn't want dinner.
    "Guys, I'm not hungry. I think I'll go to the library," he said. Hermione nodded approvingly, but Ron looked worried.
    "You okay, mate? Giving up food for studying just doesn't sound like you."
    "I told you, I'm not hungry," he muttered, walking away towards the library. Halfway down the hall, he realized the books he
    would need to research the veil wouldn't be accessible to everyone. They would be in the Restricted Section.
    "Damn," he muttered aloud. What teacher would blindly sign a permission slip for the Restricted Section?
    _No one,_ he thought with a sigh. There were no air-headed teachers this year. Harry took a deep breath. _I'll tell
    the whole thing to Dumbledore, maybe he'll understand._ Harry walked through the corridor towards Dumbledore's office.
    After guessing several types of candy, the gargoyles finally parted at "Fizzing Whizbees". He climbed the stairs two at a time
    and knocked gently on the door.
    "Come in," Dumbledore called. Harry opened the door and found the Headmaster standing on the other side of the room, staring
    out his window. "Ah, Mr. Potter, what brings you here today?"
    "Well," Harry said, taking a deep breath. "I need to research something, and I think it will be in the Restricted Section of
    the library." He paused, waiting to see if he should continue. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischeviously on his tired-looking
    face.
    "Of course, Harry," he replied, pulling a quill and a piece of parchment from his desk. He jotted down a quick note and handed
    it to his student.
    "But, sir... you don't even want to know why?" Harry asked, surprised. Professor Dumbledore smiled.
    "I have a very good idea why. Now hurry, the library's only open for a few more hours." With that, Harry bid him goodbye and
    left the office.
    ********************
    Surprisingly, Madame Pince didn't even question the validity of Harry's note. Apparently, a handwritten message from the
    headmaster held much more prestige than the glorified signature Hermione had gotten from Gilderoy Lockhart during their second
    year. Harry scanned the books, searching for something relevant. He picked out several promising books and began to read.
    After about a half hour, he finally found something that might be useful.
    _The Veil of Death, also known as the Veil of Darkness, the Veil of Beyond, and the Portal to the Afterlife, was created
    circa 250 B.C. It was one of the first objects of Dark Magic ever created, and continues to be one of the most dangerous
    in existence. Those who enter Veil from the North side are transported to what some believe to be a state of death; some
    theories maintain that it is not real death, but a dimension between physical life and complete mortality. The creator of
    the Veil is unknown, but in ancient times it was used as an execution device, especially during several of the more bloody
    wizarding wars. Its use was halted in 1720 A.D. after complaints that its real significance was not known. Since then, it has
    been kept in secret locations, hidden from the public. It is currently housed in the Department of Mysteries in the British
    Ministry of Magic._
    Harry sighed. So basically, no one really knew what it did. He flipped open another book, and an odd name caught his eye.
    _King Menkaure met his end through the Veil of Death after a bloody rule over the people of Egypt. The Pharaoh's rule had
    become overwhelmingly brutal and his top officials planned his secret assasination. The high priests, fearing that Menkaure
    had made himself completely immortal, imported the Veil from the Far East and tricked the Pharaoh into entering. Though he
    had worked for years to make himself resistant to death, Menkaure was unable to reenter the world of the living after having
    passed through the Veil._
    Harry's heart rose and his breathing quickened. He grabbed the book, along with a few others, and dashed up to Madame Pince's
    desk check it out. Stuffing it into his backpack, he hurried back upstairs to his dormitory.
    "This is it," he breathed in excitement, his fingers trembling as he flipped back to the page he had found in the library.
    "It should work! The Veil should be able to kill him even after everything he's done to try to stay alive!"
    **********************
    Sorry it's been taking me so long to update. Once a week is about all the time I have, if that! Menkaure really was an Egyptian
    Pharaoh, but the history is of course completely fabricated by yours truly.
    Hope everyone's enjoying the story!! Please review!
    Thanks to my reviewers:
    Alex
    Dumblydora
    Hadassah
    Ash
    girlwiththehpobsession
    PadfootPotter
    dontwasn
    MarZ
    Prophet
    iwpotter
    prongs
    Bregmaniak
    prashanth
    siriussnape
    JuJu
    


	18. Chapter 19


    **Chapter 19: Resolution
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "O' What may man within him hide,
    though angel on the outward side!"
    -William Shakespeare
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    Harry had begun reading almost as much as Hermione lately. Between studying for N.E.W.T.s, researching the Veil of Death, and
    perusing some Defense books he thought might come in handy, Harry was spending hours each day with his nose in a book. One
    afternoon, as Harry and Hermione were reading in the main common room, Ron bounded down the stairs carrying his broom.
    "Hey Harry," he said excitedly, leaning on the back of Harry's armchair. "Wanna play some Quidditch?"
    "Er, not right now, Ron," he replied, flipping a page in the book. Ron sighed dramatically as his lankly form fell into the
    chair beside Harry.
    "C'mon mate, you've been reading forever," Ron complained. Hermione looked up from her book.
    "Speaking of Quidditch, Ron," she began, and Harry noticed Ron's body tense up with anxiety. "When were you planning on posting
    the results from tryouts?"
    "Um, well... you see, I still haven't... well I really can't decide-" he stuttered.
    "Ronald Weasley!" Hermione cried, snapping her book shut. "Don't tell me you've waited a week to post them just because you
    didn't want me to find out I didn't make the team!"
    "Yeah... that's pretty much exactly what happened," he confessed, looking a bit relieved that he didn't have to explain himself.
    Hermione rolled her eyes.
    "You know I was horrible at tryouts. I didn't expect to make it," she said, burying her face in the book again.
    "No, Hermione, you were fine, really-" Ron tried.
    "Did you see me when I almost flew into the goal post Ron, or did you miss that part?" she asked sarcastically. Harry tried
    to cover up his chuckle with a cough, but the huge grin on his face gave it away.
    "Um yeah, well that..." Ron mumbled. Hermione laughed.
    "It's not a big deal, Ron, really. It probably would have interfered too much with my studying." With that, she gathered her
    books and walked back upstairs to her dormitory. Ron turned to Harry, his mouth gaping.
    "Well if I would have known it was going to be that easy, I would have told her ages ago!" he cried in an exasperated voice.
    "I guess I'll go post the team list now," he said, somewhat annoyed. After watching Ron climb the stairs, Harry slipped a
    different book out of his backpack. He had been reading this one secretly for some time; it was one of the ones he had
    checked out of the Restricted Section of the library, but it had nothing to do with the Veil of Death. It had to be the
    thickest book Harry had ever seen; he hauled it onto his lap and opened the cover, labeled _A Complete Guide to Transfiguration_,
    and flipped to page 4,523, near the back. He now knew that page number by heart. It was the beginning of the chapter entitled
    "Learn to become an animagi".
    **********************
    A few days later, Ron managed to drag Harry, along with the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, out to the pitch for a
    grueling practice. Ron Weasley was quickly becoming the obsessive captain that Oliver Wood had once been; Harry watched him
    with a sort of awe, seeing clearly the things he himself hadn't been able to do last year when he was Gryffindor's captain.
    "All right team," Ron said to the group that gathered after nearly three hours of intense flying. "We're nearly done, just
    one more thing-"
    "But Ron, I'm exhausted," whined Euan Ambercrombie. "Can't we go yet?"
    "No," Ron insisted. "We play Ravenclaw next week, and we're nowhere near ready-"
    "We've been here since 8 AM!" Lavendar complained. "I'm hungry."
    "Ten more minutes," Ron said firmly. "Now, why don't we try that formation from before; Sloper, you cover left field, Kirke,
    you do right, Ginny cover the goal-" Lavendar grumbled something incomprehensible. Ginny sighed.
    "I know. At least YOU don't have to live with him!" she whispered.
    ********************
    Slytherin had played Ravenclaw earlier that week and won. Apprehensively, the Gryffindor team prepared for their game against
    Ravenclaw; to even have a chance at the Cup, they would have to win against both Ravenclaw and Slytherin, both tough teams
    this year. Slytherin was just as ruthless as usual in their gameplay, and the Ravenclaws had replaced the recently graduated
    Cho Chang with a full-figured brunette named Mandy Brocklehurst.
    The day of the game came quickly and Harry found himself walking out onto the Quidditch pitch amid screams from fans in the
    stands. The Gryffindor boys were goggling at Mandy's curvaceous figure, and as Harry overheard them make a comment about her,
    he thought of Rachel. His heart filled with sadness as he scanned the Hufflepuff crowd, knowing she wouldn't be there but hoping
    she was anyway. He was right; she wasn't. He halfheartedly mounted his broom as he heard Madam Hooch's whistle.
    _Why did I have to think about her right now?_ Harry asked himself angrily, trying to push all thoughts of her from his
    mind and concentrate on finding the Snitch. _She's a traitor to the Order and she's chosen her side, it's the Dark side,
    nothing I can do about it-_
    "HARRY!" Ginny screamed, pointing to his left. He whipped his head to that direction and saw the streaming brown hair of
    Mandy Brocklehurt as she flew straight down towards the glimmering Snitch. Pushing his broom as fast as he could go, Harry
    raced after her, narrowly avoiding a Bludger and dodging another player. _Hurry, hurry!_ he thought silently. He knew
    he couldn't outrace her; she was too close. Instead, as he reached Brocklehurst, he flew out in front of her, causing her
    to turn sharply and nearly fall off her broom. She glared at him, but Harry breathed a sigh of relief. The Snitch had
    disappeared.
    However, the rest of the Gryffindor team wasn't doing quite so well. Ron was letting in goal after goal, and Harry knew that
    if he didn't catch the Snitch soon, they were going to be in big trouble. He continued searching from above, flinching as he
    heard the announcer call out "That's another goal for Ravenclaw, in the lead with 200 points; Gryffindor trails behind with
    only 70...." Suddenly, Harry spotted the tell-tale glittering of the Snitch directly below him, almost on the ground. He
    pulled his broom into a sharp dive and caught it easily, winning the game for Gryffindor. Mandy Brocklehurst, who had not
    even seen the Snitch, was furious. Throwing her broom to the ground as she landed, she immediately got into a fight with
    Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw captain. Ignoring the yells of triumph from the Gryffindor crowd, Harry retreated quietly into
    the locker room and took a long hot shower. He was exhausted and angry with himself for thinking about Rachel.
    _Give up on her,_ he told himself as he turned off the tap and reached over to get a fluffy towel. _She's abandoned
    you._ Harry sighed. _But what if she's realizes she's wrong? Shouldn't I give her another chance?_ He thought about
    this for a while, finally concluding that he should at least talk to her. Not knowing how she felt was killing him.
    ****************
    As he entered the library to return some of his many books, Harry immediately noticed Rachel hunched over a table in the
    corner, studying. _It's now or never,_ he thought, taking a deep breath. He walked boldly across the room and sat in
    the chair across from her. She didn't look up.
    "Hello Rachel," he said, trying to keep his voice level. She glanced up at him before returning her eyes to the book she
    was reading.
    "Hello," she said coldly, continuing to ignore him. Harry leaned across the table to get closer to her.
    "Rach, listen. I don't want you to be mad at me, can't we at least talk about this? Maybe there's something I don't understand,
    but-"
    "There are lots of things you'll never understand, Harry!" she said loudly, slamming her book shut. The noise echoed in the
    nearly silent library. "Just leave me alone!" She stormed out of the door; Harry saw Madam Pince stalking towards him and hurriedly
    picked up his belongings to follow Rachel. He saw her walking quickly ahead of him towards the Hufflepuff common room.
    "Rachel!" He called. "Rachel!" he said again, getting angry. He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him, their eyes finally
    meeting. Harry's heart skipped a beat as he stared into the light green orbs which had always held so much laughter and
    innocence, and found to his surprise that they still did. _She hasn't changed,_ he thought, taking a deep breath. "Please,
    I-I just want to talk to you," he said lamely. She sighed.
    "Okay, so what are we talking about?" she asked listlessly, readjusting her backpack. "Hmmm?"
    "I just wanted you to know that I thought about you today," he began quietly. "There's a lot going on in my life right now,
    and I know there's a lot going on in yours too, and maybe this isn't a time for either of us to be involved with someone
    romantically. But I hope we can still be friends. I still want to be able to talk to you," Harry finished, feeling as though
    his speech had gone well. Rachel's expression softened.
    "I'm sorry," she said, staring at the ground. "I've been avoiding you and being immature and... well... of course we can be
    friends." She looked up at him, waiting for a response.
    "Thanks, Rach," he replied quietly, looking relieved.
    "Are you sure that's what you want to be - friends?" she spat out the last word bitterly.
    "Unless you want to be something more," Harry said, shrugging as if it didn't matter. _As if it doesn't matter.. of COURSE
    it matters!_ he thought to himself angrily. _What the bloody hell am I doing? I want to be with her, why am I acting like
    this?_ He ran a hand through his hair nervously. _But she's from a family of Death Eaters... she values them above me,
    she's a traitor... but she's Rachel, she's beautiful... but I can't trust her... but I love her..._ Pulling himself away
    from his contradictory thoughts, Harry found himself inches away from Rachel's face. Simultaneously, the two moved together
    and their lips met, sparking passion between them.
    ******************
    That evening in the common room, Harry was reading a book when he heard an excited squeal behind him.
    "Harry!" Parvati called out, looking ecstatic. "I hear you and Rachel are back together!"
    "Er, yeah... Who told you that?" he asked, blushing a deep red. Ron and Hermione looked on curiously; he hadn't told either
    of them yet.
    "Well, Megan Jones saw you kissing each other in the hallway, and she told Lisa Turpin, who told Suzanne Fawcett, who told
    Padma, who told me!" she squealed again. "I'm so happy for you two! You're such a cute couple!"
    "Thanks," Harry mumbled. He gathered up his books and gestured for Ron and Hermione to follow him upstairs to the Heads'
    common room.
    "Why didn't you tell us?" Hermione demanded as soon as they were safely upstairs.
    "Well, because... I don't know, it just happened a few hours ago, and..."
    "Does it matter if he told us?" Ron asked, shrugging. "We know now. It's not that important." Hermione crossed her arms,
    looking worried.
    "Watch out for her, Harry. I just have a bad feeling about this whole situation."
    *******************
    Rachel joined her biological family for dinner the next evening. She had begun to visit more and more often, especially
    for Sunday dinner; Hogwarts students usually weren't encouraged to leave that often, but after the attacks, keeping in
    touch with family had become more important and Dumbledore relaxed the rules.
    Rachel sat in the quiet dining room of her family's mansion, sipping her soup silently. Her two brothers, Armro and Audric,
    were across from her, and her father sat at the head of the table. The house-elf came to refill their drinks and Mr. Marvolo
    ordered him to bring the main course. Turning his attention back to the table, Marvolo rested his fingertips on his chin
    and stared at Rachel with his pale green eyes.
    "So, I hear you're dating the famous Harry Potter," he said emotionlessly. Armro and Audric looked up in shock and exchanged
    a wide-eyed glance.
    "Erm, yes," Rachel mumbled, staring at the pure white tablecloth. "Is... is that okay, dad?"
    "That's perfectly all right, dearest daughter," he replied idly. He did not express his inner joy at her confirmation.
    _A perfect position for us,_ he thought triumphantly. _The Dark Lord will be pleased._
    ********************
    I am SO sorry it's taken me forever to update! Too much homework =(
    Thank you for reading and please review!!
    Thanks to my reviewers!!
    


	19. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting.
    -Ursula K. LeGuin, _The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas_
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    Christmas was quickly approaching. So was the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Ron had taken a position
    much like that of his predecesors Oliver Wood and Angelina Johnson; the practices had grown longer and more intense, and
    Harry was beginning to wish that the game would just be over with. Hermione seemed withdrawn, no doubt because of Ron's
    intense interest in the upcoming match made him more focused on Quidditch than her.
    "Hey, Hermione," Harry greeted her as he collapsed into a chair next to her in the Heads' common room one afternoon after
    another grueling practice.
    "How was practice?" she asked shortly, without looking up from her book.
    "Eh, okay. I'd be glad I wasn't on the team if I were you," he muttered, watching a preoccupied Ron stroll across the room
    and into the Heads' bathroom without even noticing his two best friends. Hermione's eyes flitted up to glance at her
    boyfriend before returning to her book.
    "Quidditch," she mumbled distastefully. "What a stupid sport."
    **********************
    The next morning in Transfiguration, Harry surprised himself by being the first in the class to transfigure a flowerpot into
    a lizard.
    "Wonderful, Mr. Potter. Fifteen points for Gryffindor!" Professor McGonagall declared happily as she passed his side of the
    classroom. Hermione was glaring angrily at her flowerpot, which refused to change shape, and Ron was doodling Quidditch
    plays on in the margins of his notebook. After twenty minutes of intense concentration, Hermione managed to transfigure her
    flowerpot as well. She placed her lizard in a cage with Harry's and returned to the table where Harry was now reading and
    Ron was still drawing.
    "That was hard," she said emphatically, sitting down in the chair next to Harry. "Great job by the way, first in the class-"
    "Well you were second, Mione. I've been reading up on transfiguration lately," he added vaguely, not disclosing the fact
    that he was studying to become an animagi. "I think that helped." Hermione nodded, looking impressed.
    "And how about you, Ron? Are you even going to TRY to transfigure this?" Hermione said scathingly, poking her wand at Ron's
    still-unchanged flowerpot. He shrugged, not looking up from his paper.
    "Nah. It's too hard. Anyways, I think I'm on to a really good play here, if I could just get the beaters to work together..."
    Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Hermione crossed her arms and Harry could tell she was angry; he could practically
    see the steam coming out of her ears.
    "Fine. Just worry about your stupid sport and don't think about your future, Ron! You're not going to get a job anywhere if
    you keep on ignorning your studies!" Her face was flushed and she was definitely mad.
    "Maybe I'd like to play Quidditch in my future, Hermione, have you ever thought about that?" he retorted. Harry glanced around
    the room and was glad to see that most of the other students were too involved in their difficult projects to notice the
    fight brewing between his best friends.
    "Ha! Do you have any idea how many people play professional Quidditch? Hmm? Probably about 1% of the population! Face it,
    Ron, it's never going to happen!" Hermione cried, throwing her hands into the air. Ron looked as if he had been slapped.
    "You just don't understand. You don't know anything about Quidditch!" Ron yelled back. The bell rang and the students got up
    to leave, but McGonagall told them to sit down.
    "Please, if I could ask you to stay for just a few more minutes," she said loudly, trying to herd everyone back inside. "Next
    week we will be going over career plans. All students will meet with their advisor, that would be me, to discuss what job
    they would like to apply for. Applications will be due in March, so make sure you have an idea when you come for your meeting.
    A schedule of meeting times will be posted in the common room." The students once again began to leave. Hermione shot Ron an
    "I told you so" look before exiting the room. Ron proceeded to throw his books angrily inside of his backpack.
    "She doesn't know... has no confidence in me... has no idea..." he muttered furiously. He glanced up at Harry. "Are you coming?
    We're going to be late for dinner."
    "I'll catch up. I have a question for McGonagall," Harry replied. Ron shrugged, flung his bag over his shoulder, and stalked
    angrily out of the room. Harry walked up to the teacher's desk.
    "Er, Professor?" he asked, trying to remain calm. She looked up.
    "Yes, Mr. Potter. What can I do for you?"
    "Er, well, I was wondering... Well, I'm interested in becoming an animagi. I've been reading about it, I think I could do it,
    but I wanted to know about what animal I would be. I know there's some kind of spell, but the book didn't say..." he trailed
    off, wondering how she would respond. McGonagall sighed deeply.
    "Personally, I think you have many more things to be concerned with than becoming an animagi. But, I cannot tell you what to
    do in your free time, and if that is something you would like to pursue... Well, then I would be happy to cast the spell on
    you right now." Harry's heart leapt into his throat.
    "R-r-right now?" he stuttered.
    "Oh yes, it's very simple. _Cui corpus animans!_" she cried, pointing her wand at Harry. Everything suddenly went black.
    His heart was racing a million miles an hour. _It went wrong,_ he thought worriedly. _Whatever was supposed to happen
    didn't... What if I don't wake up?_ Suddenly, he saw a bright light shining in front of him. Blocking his eyes with his
    hand, he managed glance at the object. It was becoming less bright. Harry gasped as he saw his future animagus staring straight
    at him.
    ***********************
    Much later than he would have liked to, Harry found himself running down the hallway towards the Great Hall for dinner. He
    met Rachel and a couple of other girls from Hufflepuff coming back from eating.
    "Hey, Harry! How come you weren't at dinner?" Rachel asked.
    "Oh, I'm going now... I had a question for McGonagall after class," he said simply. He didn't feel ready to tell anyone
    about his animagus plans yet.
    "oh, all right," Rachel said, nodding. Her two friends had continued down the hall without her.
    "Did you want us to wait for you, Rach?" a red-headed girl called back to her.
    "No, I'll be back in a minute," she answered, turning to Harry. "What are you doing tonight?" she asked him.
    "Oh, I've got tons of Potions for tomorrow, and lots of reading to do... Why?"
    "Well, I thought maybe we could hang out tonight," she said innoncently. Harry sighed.
    "Sorry Rach, I'm so busy-"
    "Astronomy tower at 7? That sounds good to me too. See you then!" she said, walking off with a sly smile on her face. Harry
    had to laugh. _She sure knows what to say,_ he thought to himself, knowing that he would meet her at 7 despite all of
    his homework.
    *******************
    Harry didn't make it back to the common room until 10 p.m. Ron was the only one still up; he had half expected Hermione to be
    there as well, but remembering their fight during Transfiguration, he wasn't surprised.
    "Hey Ron," he said softly, sitting down near him. "How are things going?" Ron glanced up at him and snorted.
    "Don't even come over here trying to make me feel better about Hermione when you look like that," he replied, giving Harry a
    critical stare.
    "Look like what?" Harry asked, nervously pushing his hair back.
    "Look like you've just been snogging your girlfriend, with lipstick all over your face and your hair all messed up-"
    "Sorry," Harry muttered, wiping his face. Ron began to laugh.
    "Nah, it's okay. Funny actually," he added. His expression became more serious. "But about Hermione... I just don't know what
    to do. Quidditch is something that's important to me, she knows that." He stared at the floor, looking cross.
    "I'm sure she knows its important Ron, she just doesn't want it to be more important than she is," Harry said with a sigh.
    "Don't worry, I'm sure after this game against Slytherin, everything will be fine."
    "I hope so," Ron muttered.
    ******************
    The day of the big game arrived. Ron and Hermione were on speaking terms, but just barely.
    "I don't know if I'll come to the game," Hermione mused in the morning at breakfast. "I've got that Potions essay to finish-"
    "The one that isn't due for three weeks?" Ron asked through gritted teeth, trying to control his temper.
    "Yes," she replied subbornly. "Some people like to stay on top of their studies." Ron threw down his spoon.
    "I think I'm done," he growled, leaving the table and heading outside. Hermione just rolled her eyes.
    "I better go too, Hermione. I'll see you later... Come if you can," he said, a pleading look in his eyes. She sighed.
    "I'll think about it."
    Harry walked outside and across the grounds to the Quidditch pitch. A few other players were already there, along with Ron,
    and they began their warm up exercises. Before he knew it, Harry was on the field and Madam Hooch was holding up the Quaffle
    and waiting to blow the whistle.
    "I want a CLEAN GAME!" she said loudly. "Do we understand?" Ron and the Slytherin captain mumbled replies. She blew the whistle
    and the game began. Harry flew into the air, his eyes immediately scanning the Gryffindor section of the bleachers for
    Hermione. He couldn't find her. A sudden Bludger flew his way and he was forced to roll over in midair to avoid it. He decided
    his focus should be on the game, not Hermione, and he swooped downwards in search of the Snitch. He could see Malfoy all the
    way across the pitch, watching his every move suspiciously.
    Harry continued circling the arena and listening to the scores being called out by Dean, who had been appointed the new commentator
    for Quidditch matches after Lee Jordan graduated. The game was getting more and more violent, and Madam Hooch was not pleased.
    "I told you I wanted a clean game!" she screamed to Goyle, who had 'accidentally' knocked Ginny off her broom; luckily it
    was only a few feet off the ground. "Penalty for Gryffindor!" Jack Sloper took the shot and missed terribly. Harry cursed
    his bad luck; he didn't want the game to come down to whether he caught the Snitch or not. He zoomed in and out of the players,
    trying to avoid most of the action.
    "Nott passes to Crabbe, they're nearing the Gryffindor goal... But the shot is blocked by the goalkeeper! Weasley manages
    to keep it away! Gryffindor's in possession, Brown has the Quaffle, she's nearly halfway-" Harry spotted the glittering
    Snitch on the far side of the pitch. The problem was, it was closer to Malfoy than to him. Glancing at Malfoy, he realized
    that the other Seeker hadn't seen the Snitch yet. He darted forward, dodging a Bludger and raced towards his goal. Draco
    saw him and quickly followed, only inches away from his tail.
    "Back off, Potter!" he heard him hiss as he approached the shiny winged ball. Malfoy nudged Harry's shoulder; at their speed,
    this was enough to send him far off course and nearly hit the ground, but not before he managed to wrap his fingers around
    the Snitch. Grinning but in pain, Harry held it up. The crowd was roaring wildly. Harry glanced around the field and saw
    that most of the Gryffindor players were in pretty bad shape; Ginny was clutching her arm from her fall, Ron was completely
    winded, and Andrew Kirke was limping. He noticed that Draco Malfoy was getting a lecture from Madam Hooch on the definition
    of a 'clean game', and Harry had to laugh.
    He began to walk over to Ron when he noticed Hermione standing at the foot of the bleachers. She smiled wanly at Harry, but
    seemed reluctant to come over and talk. By the time Harry reached Ron's side, his friend was in a deep conversation with
    a man in a black cloak that Harry had never seen before. Changing his mind and deciding not to interrupt, Harry went to greet
    Hermione.
    "Thanks for coming," he said, smiling. She shrugged.
    "Sure," she said quietly.
    "HARRY!" someone screamed from the top of the bleachers. Rachel ran down the steps as fast as she could and flung her arms
    around his neck. "Congratulations! That was amazing!" They kissed briefly. Hermione turned away, feeling uncomfortable at
    their public display of affection. Her eyes landed on Ron, who she was surprised to see was talking to an unfamiliar man.
    He looked happier than she had ever seen him before, and Hermione had to smile. Sure, Quidditch might be stupid to her, but
    _Hogwarts, A History_ was stupid to Ron. She had to accept him, faults and all. The mysterious man walked away and
    Hermione approached Ron, laying a hand on his shoulder.
    "Great game," she said quietly, smiling. Ron turned around, grinning, but his happiness faded a little when he saw her.
    "Oh, thanks, Mione," he mumbled.
    "What did that guy want?" she asked, looking around for the man, who seemed to have vanished.
    "Er... you probably wouldn't be very happy if I told you," Ron replied, laughing humorlessly. Hermione just stared at him
    sternly. "Oh all right... see, he's a scout."
    "A scout?" Hermione echoed.
    "Yeah, you know, they recruit people for professional teams... Well, he wants me to play for the Chudley Cannons..." Hermione's
    eyes widened.
    "What did you say?" she asked him breathlessly. Ron grimaced.
    "I told him I would think about it. I really want to but..." he trailed off, his cheeks flushing. "If you don't want me to..
    Well, Hermione, I don't want to lose you over something stupid like Quidditch." Feeling tears forming in her eyes, Hermione
    wrapped her arms around Ron suddenly.
    "Tell him yes," she choked out, finally making eye contact with Ron. Ron grinned.
    "Are you sure?" he asked. She nodded, smiling. Harry and Rachel watched the pair from across the field.
    "Well, I guess the fight's over," Harry commented, watching Ron and Hermione kiss in the middle of the now-deserted Quidditch
    pitch.
    *****************
    School at the Magical Institute had gotten off to a good start, and Remus was enjoying his classes. He had felt much more
    relaxed in this atmosphere than he had at Hogwart's; everyone here knew he was a werewolf and didn't care. He was getting
    himself a cup of tea from the staff lounge when he saw a pink-haired female enter the room behind him.
    "Hey Tonks," he greeted her. "How did your date go with, uh, what's-his-name?" She snorted in laughter.
    "Oh, you mean Rich? Eh, not so well." Remus' spirits lifted.
    "I'm sorry to hear that," he said, sounding sincere but not meaning a word of it. "Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?"
    _There - I did it,_ he thought triumphantly. He hadn't even thought about it, the words had just come out of his mouth.
    He watched Tonks' reaction nervously.
    "Um... sure!" she said, smiling. "Why not?" Remus grinned back at her.
    "I'll meet you at 8, then?"
    *****************
    Sorry about the wait... Midterms, etc. are getting in the way. I know this wasn't the most exciting chapter, and yes, as many
    of you have mentioned things are going a little too smoothly right now... Don't worry, danger is near! Mwahahaha. Thanks to
    my readers!!
    Thanks to those who reviewed:
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	20. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21: Answers & Animagi
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "I warned you! But did you listen to me? Oh, no, you knew it all, didn't you?
    Oh, it's just a harmless little bunny, isn't it? Well, it's always the same..."
    -Tim the Enchanter, _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    Late one Wednesday evening, most of the seventh year students could still be found in the Gryffindor common room. As Hermione
    had hysterically reminded Ron and Harry earlier that day, N.E.W.T.s took place in April and that was only four months away.
    Harry was reading for Herbology; he had decided to forego most of the Defense Against the Dark Arts studying, since he had
    learned so much of it already from other books he was reading during his free time. Hermione was practicing her patronus
    charm and Ron was skimming the Defense chapter on vampires. Harry noticed that, although Ron looked like he was studying,
    his eyes kept drifting over to an open notebook at his side which detailed several Quidditch strategies for the upcoming
    game against Hufflepuff. He felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought that, no matter how Ron did on his N.E.W.T.s, he would
    still have a job, and a cool one at that. _Being an auror would be cool,_ he told himself. _But avoiding Bludgers is
    a little bit easier than capturing dark wizards..._
    Ron had indeed told the scout that he would play for the Chudley Cannons, though their record hadn't been so good in the last
    few years.
    "They've been doing much better this year," Ron had said in defense earlier that day, after Pansy Parkinson had mentioned
    the team's enormous losing streak.
    Harry shook his head and tried to focus once again on the Herbology chapter. Nothing seemed to be making sense and the words
    swam before his eyes. He sighed.
    "Hey guys, I think I'm going to head upstairs," he told Ron and Hermione.
    "Goodnight, Harry," Hermione called sweetly.
    "See ya up there, mate," Ron mumbled as he poured over his notebook, now hidden inside of the bigger Defense book. Harry climbed
    the stairs, changed his clothes, and collapsed into bed. The moment his consciousness gave way to sleep, he found himself in
    a very familiar situation. The white room, the calm feeling, the quiet dark-haired woman in the corner...
    "Hello, Dulcinea," he said with a smile. She grinned back at him.
    "So, you fancy yourself fit to be an animagus? Well, just be sure you're not neglecting your studies or your research."
    "I know, that's what McGonagall said," Harry replied, nodding. Dulcinea rested her forefinger on her lips, looking thoughtful.
    "Well, good luck with that, Harry. But the reason I came tonight was to check on how things were going in your plans for the
    Dark Lord's defeat." She paused. "Do you have a group to go with you to the Department of Mysteries?"
    "Err... well, I've been thinking about it," Harry said truthfully. "Do I really need anyone to come with me? Aren't I supposed
    to defeat him alone? If I have other people with me, they're just going to get hurt or-"
    "Harry," Dulcinea said sharply. "The reason you will defeat the Dark Lord is because you have the love and support of your
    friends. They are not bound to you out of fear like Voldemort's Death Eaters. They will be important in your conquest, and
    I sugget you start organizing them now." With a nod of her head, the white room swirled away and Harry sunk back into a
    dark and dreamless sleep.
    ***************
    "Oops!" Remus Lupin cringed as he heard the breaking of glass and watched Tonks' glass of red wine spill across the white
    tablecloth. She sighed, pulling her wand out of her deep purple robes.
    "Scourgify!" she commanded, and most of the dark red stain disappeared. Remus quickly mended the wine glass. "Sorry," Tonks
    muttered, inspecting the tablecloth. "You know how I am." Remus chuckled.
    "It's all right, Tonks. Everyone has accidents. Besides, it adds a little comic relief now and then." Tonks snorted.
    "It ceases to be funny when it happens every five minutes," she mumbled. Remus' cheeks flushed.
    "Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean any harm by it..." There was an awkward pause.
    "Oh, don't worry about it," Tonks said finally. "I'm used to it." Luckily, the waiter came by and saved them from another
    weird silent moment. After ordering, the conversation returned to normal.
    "How's your class on Basic Defense coming, Remus?" Tonks asked, taking a sip of her wine, which the waiter had refilled.
    Remus shrugged.
    "Not bad. We've been covering Unforgivable Curses, which is kind of a touchy subject; with those attacks recently, all of
    my students know someone who's been under at least one of them, if not all three..." He trailed off. Tonks nodded sympathetically.
    "I know what you mean. That Cho Chang girl is in my Level One Auror Training class, the Killing Curse came up in discussion
    the other day and she couldn't stop crying. Though she is one of the more, er, sensitive ones, it's impacted every one of them."
    "It's changed us all," Remus said quietly. "No matter how it ends, none of us will ever be the same."
    **************
    Harry was quiet and withdrawn the next day. Not even Professor Jones' lesson could keep his attention; Defense Against the
    Dark Arts seemed boring and Harry had resorted to scrawling a list of names in his notebook. _Who else? How many people
    does she want?_ he wondered. _Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville... maybe Luna will go._ He scribbled her name at the
    bottom of a list that now contained Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Parvati Patil, Terry Boot, Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones,
    Ernie Macmillan, and Lavendar Brown. His eyes rested on the parchment; the list was quite long. _How many will come out
    alive?_ he asked himself, placing his hand on his scar which had begun to throb in pain. _How many will be left?_
    "Harry," Hermione said, tapping him on the shoulder. "Class is over! Are you coming or not?"
    "Er, yeah, sorry," he said hurriedly, stuffing the list in his bag. As he walked out of the room, a sudden wave of a strong
    emotion hit him. He wasn't sure if it was fear, guilt, anger, distrust - or a combination of all of them. Harry realized the
    one person close to him who he had left off the list - Rachel. _Why didn't I think of her before? Can't I trust her?_ he
    asked himself.
    *************
    "Hermione," Harry said, trying to keep his voice low and unheard in the chattering common room. "D'you remember that list
    of people we were making before? The ones we thought would be good to go to the Department of Mysteries you-know-when?" She
    nodded and rose from her chair.
    "Why don't we go up to the Head's common room to talk about this," she said firmly, leading the way up the spiral staircase.
    Harry motioned for Ron to follow them. As soon as they were upstairs and the door was closed, Harry began rummaging through
    his bag for the list. Ron sat down on the other sofa, looking confused.
    "Here's who I have so far, my real problem is what to do about Rachel," Harry said, handing the parchment over to Hermione.
    She looked over it with great interest, pursing her lips slightly and nodding.
    "Harry, what is that?" Ron asked curiously, craning his neck in an attempt to read the paper Hermione was holding. Harry
    sighed heavily.
    "It's a long story, Ron, but I guess I'll tell you now." He glanced at Hermione, who was still engrossed in the list. "Well,
    er, the reason I didn't tell you before was because we weren't talking, but... Well, here goes. You remember the ghost that
    talks to me during my dreams?" Ron nodded immediately. "Well, she thinks the best way to defeat Voldemort is by using the
    Veil of Death... you know, the thing Sirius went through..." Harry gulped before continuing. "So we would have to go to the
    Department of Mysteries and somehow convince him to follow us. Dulcinea thinks it would be best if I had a group of people
    with me, so I've been working on a list." He gestured towards the parchment Hermione was still holding.
    "And your question is whether you should trust Rachel enough to bring her?" Ron asked, catching on surprisingly quickly. Harry
    nodded.
    "What do you guys think?" he asked. Hermione frowned, but Ron just shrugged.
    "Why not? She's harmless, I wouldn't worry about it," he said nonchalantly.
    "Ron! She comes from a family of Death Eaters," Hermione argued. Ron raised his eyebrow.
    "Since when did you care about bloodlines, Hermione?" he asked coldly.
    "That's not what I meant," she huffed. "She sees them all the time! If they really are Death Eaters, and she tells them our
    plan, it would throw off everything! It could ruin it all," she said desperately. "Harry, I know you two are together, but
    please, leave her out of this." Harry nodded.
    "I think it would be best if I did," he mumbled. He sighed, putting his hand to his forehead and unconsciously running his
    fingers through his hair. "It's just... I don't..."
    "You don't know how it's possible to love someone but not trust them," Hermione stated quietly. Harry nodded. "I don't think
    it is, Harry."
    "But I do trust her! I just don't trust her family," he moaned miserably. Hermione glanced at her watch.
    "It's getting quite late, I think I should get to bed. I want to get up early to study for that Herbology quiz again," she said.
    Ron yawned and patted Harry on the back.
    "Don't worry mate, it'll work itself out. Everything does."
    ************
    Harry couldn't sleep again that night. He could hear Ron's quiet snores from the other side of the room; it was not loud
    enough to be keeping him up, but just the volume to remind him that he himself was not asleep. Quietly, he snuck across the
    empty room and pulled the thick transfiguration book out of the drawer. Getting back into bed and drawing the curtains once
    again, he sat crosslegged in the middle of the mattress and opened the book to the chapter on animagi. He had been reading
    about this so often he had nearly memorized the words. All the exercises had been practiced, all the tests taken, all the
    reading done. Sitting on his bed at nearly 1 AM, Harry came to the conclusion that there was no better time to try to change
    himself into his animagus form for the first time. He picked up his wand; the book had said that the incantation usually had
    to be used by beginners, at least for the first few times. Gulping nervously, he pointed it at himself.
    "_Animus commuto,_" he whispered, his voice shaking with anxiety. He experienced a sudden pain that he wasn't prepared
    for; Harry had to bite his lip to keep from screaming out and waking Ron. After a moment the hurt subsided and he opened
    his eyes. His eyesight was different, somehow worse and he could see less colors; his sense of smell, however, was very
    strong. He glanced down at his arms and saw fur, but his hands and forearms remained unchanged. The book had said that too,
    he remembered. It took many attempts to be able to transform completely. Shutting his eyes tight again, Harry easily changed
    back into his human form. He picked his wand up off of the bed and stared at it thoughtfully.
    "Just once more..." he mumbled aloud. This time, there was less pain and more fur. Again and again he transformed, from
    animal to human, human to animal. Finally, on his 12th try, Harry felt his emotions and thoughts change and become less
    complex. He knew this was the final step - he was now 100% animal. Excitement flooding his veins, he crept off the bed and
    pushed the bedcurtains aside with his long snout. He had gone through so much work for this - he wanted to know exactly what
    he looked like. McGonagall's spell had been a preview, but it would be nothing like staring at himself as an animal.
    He moved clumsily away from his bed, at first unstable on four legs. He walked slowly to the side of the room where the
    full-length mirror hung on the wall. A single beam of moonlight had illuminated the area, and Harry stopped as he saw his
    reflection. Looking back from the mirror was a gray timber wolf with a lightning bolt-shaped white mark on its forehead and
    its yellow eyes staring straight back into his own.
    ***********
    Did you guys like this chapter? How about the wolf - good choice, bad choice? Review and tell me!
    Sorry it took so long to update. I'll try for at least one more chapter this week, maybe two. Thank you for reading!!
    Welcome to those of you who just started to read my series - hope you're enjoying it!
    Thanks to my reviewers:
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	21. Chapter 22


    **Chapter 22: House Divisions
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "A house divided against itself cannot stand."
    -Abraham Lincoln
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "Harry, wake up!" Ron called in a panicked voice. "The game starts in less than an hour!" Groggily, Harry lifted his head to
    see Ron racing around their room and random Quidditch equipment strewn across the floor. Letting out a groan, Harry sank
    back into his warm comfortable bed.
    "Harry! GET UP!" Ron yelled, yanking open the curtains. The sunlight streamed in and Harry shut his eyes tightly. _He's
    definitely gone nutters now_, he thought to himself. _Even Oliver Wood never resorted to wake up calls..._ Harry
    glanced at the clock on his nightstand and his mouth fell open in shock.
    "Ron, it's nearly 11:30! The game starts at noon!" he cried, jumping out of bed. Ron turned around and stared at him.
    "That's what I've been trying to tell you for the last ten minutes! Now, get up and get ready! We HAVE to win this game!"
    The game, of course, was the final one in the Hogwart's tournament. Even though it was against Hufflepuff, a team that
    was generally easy to beat, if the Gryffindors lost they would have to play against Slytherin again for the first place
    position. The first time had been close enough and Harry didn't want to repeat it and lose.
    In record time, the two boys dressed, grabbed their brooms, and headed out to the Quidditch pitch. Most of the team was
    already waiting there impatiently.
    "Ron!" Ginny gasped, pulling on the sleeve of his robe. "I didn't think you were going to make it! You're usually down here
    so early!"
    "Bugger off, Gin," he hissed, pulling himself away from her. "Have you started warm-ups yet? No? Then let's get going!" Ron
    yelled to the rest of the team. Ginny stayed to one side, her arms crossed and a sour expression on her face.
    "He needs to quit being such a prat," she muttered to Harry as she mounted her broom. "This Chudley Cannons thing has gone
    to his head."
    "Maybe he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Harry suggested. He himself had initially felt awake when he had gotten
    out of bed; the shock of adrenaline at realizing he was going to be late had kept him going for a good fifteen minutes, but it
    was beginning to wear off. He was becoming aware of how tired he really was. He was vaguely aware of the players around him
    getting into position and he followed along, though slowly. He struggled to focus his eyes as Madam Hooch's whistle blew,
    signaling the start of the match. _I shouldn't have stayed up so late,_ he chided himself. But a slow grin crossed his
    face. _But it was worth it... Now I'm an animagi, and not even a lame one at that. A wolf is cool-_
    "Harry!" The bloodcurdling scream echoed across the field. His head whipped to the left as he heard Lavendar Brown's voice.
    She was pointing frantically to Justin Finch-Fletchley, the new Hufflepuff seeker, who was streaking his way towards the
    Snitch. Harry zoomed towards the glittering golden ball, but his heart sank as he realized he couldn't make it. He was too
    far away. _Please, oh please..._ His hopes were dashed with a cheer from the Hufflepuff crowd - Harry saw Justin grinning
    and holding the Snitch.
    "And Hufflepuff wins, in the shortest game this season!" Dean's voice boomed over the stadium. Harry sank slowly to the
    ground, still in disbelief. He landed on the ground and turned to Ron, who gave him an angry glare.
    "You weren't paying attention," he hissed, stalking off towards the showers. Jack Sloper walked past him.
    "Hey mate, nice try. Don't worry about it, though. It was just too far away," he said consolingly. Ginny patted him on the
    back as he walked by.
    "Can't win them all, Harry," she said, sounding unconvincing. "Don't let Ron get to you." Harry began walking off the field,
    but glanced back to see the crowd of Hufflepuffs congratulating Justin. Rachel was standing at the front of the group, smiling
    and clapping. The scene made his blood boil.
    *************
    Ron remained mad at Harry for the rest of the day. Even though Gryffindor still had a shot at first place, they would have to
    beat Slytherin again. Ron was blaming Harry for the entire loss; Harry had heard this from several people, but not from Ron
    himself, since he refused to talk to him. That evening, the trio spent an awkward night in the common room - the tension was
    thick between the two friends and Hermione was trying to stay out of the discussion completely. Finally, she slammed her
    Potions book shut with a loud bang.
    "This is ridiculous, you two," she lectured, glaring at both of them. "Can't you just apologize?"
    "No," Ron answered sullenly, rifling through pieces of parchment. "It's all his fault."
    "I'm going upstairs," Harry growled, stomping up the spiral staircase. He entered his bedroom and sat on his bed, pulling the
    curtains around the bed closed. _What am I supposed to do now?_ he asked himself. First they had lost the game, then
    Rachel had been happy that Hufflepuff had won, then Ron was upset at him. _I can't stand being in here any longer,_ he
    thought angrily. A sudden and slightly crazy idea popped into his head. _I don't HAVE to be here..._
    Getting out of his bed and carefully closing the curtains behind him, Harry walked quietly over to the painting on the wall.
    Touching his finger to the fish in the picture, the trapdoor swung open and Harry climbed inside. _I'm free!_ he thought
    with a grin.
    Moments later, Harry found himself outside. He felt like going for a long, relaxing walk, but since it was early December, he
    was freezing. _Why didn't I bring my cloak?_ he wondered, shivering. As he walked towards the lake, he had a perfect idea.
    In the blink of an eye, he had transformed into a wolf and was racing around the perimeter of the water.
    ***********
    "Ron, really, why are you two so worked up over this?" Hermione scolded. Ron scowled, staring at the floor. Most of the
    common room had cleared out by now; only a few other students were still up, studying or chatting quietly in the firelight.
    "We could have had the whole thing won, if Harry would have just been paying attention," Ron grumbled. "Everyone was doing
    great out there, and then he has to go and screw it all up..."
    "Ron, I'm sure he didn't mean to," Hermione said gently. "And you still have a chance at the Cup, right?" Ron nodded.
    "I guess I shouldn't have gotten so mad," Ron mumbled. "It's just that... well, he's been so distracted lately." Hermione
    shrugged.
    "I'm sure he has good reasons, Ron. Some things are more important than Quidditch." Ron sighed, wrapping his arm around her.
    The couple sat quietly in the room, barely even hearing the lone wolf's howl that broke the silence.
    **********
    Harry was enjoying his newfound freedom. Running past the lake, Hagrid's hut, and a small grouping of trees, he entered the
    Forbidden Forest. He ran and ran, no longer feeling clumsy on his four legs. After what seemed like hours, he stopped and
    glanced around, panting. A mild fear ran through his body; he had never been quite this deep in the forest before. _It's
    fine,_ he told himself. _I can just follow my own scent back out._ He began sniffing around, but there were so many
    unfamiliar smells he wasn't sure which one to follow. Panic was now flooding through his brain. His eyes drifted upwards
    towards the full moon. Sitting back on his haunches, he let out a mournful howl.
    The forest around him seemed creepy and dark. Harry was afraid to change back into his human form, for whatever danger was
    lurking nearby would most likely be easier to escape as a wolf. He was surprised by the sound of cracking branches behind
    him; he turned around rapidly, but saw nothing. He began sniffing again, but smelled nothing. Even more afraid, he began to
    walk off towards one direction, but the sound was following him. Harry began running as fast as he could, but stopped after
    a few minutes. Now he was just deeper within the forest and all the more alarmed. He heard the twigs cracking behind him
    again and turned around once more.
    There was a dark shape moving through the trees mere meters away from him. Whining softly, Harry retreated into the shadows,
    but glanced the moving object again. He was shocked as he saw it move into a lighted area and was finally able to see it
    more clearly. At first, it appeared to be a werewolf; it was, of course, the full moon, and this creature had been following
    him. But upon closer inspection, Harry realized it was not a wolf of any kind but more like a huge dog. As it moved toward
    him in the darkness, Harry could hardly make out its shape. The animal stood in front of him unmovingly.
    Before Harry could make up his mind whether to run away or attack it, the dog lay at his feet and growled playfully. Pouncing
    back up again, it ran a few steps away, wagging its tail, before stopping to look back at Harry. Some mysterious animal instinct
    told him that the dog wanted him to follow it. He took a few cautious steps in its direction, and he could have sworn that
    the dog grinned. It began bounding through the forest and Harry took off after it, careful to stay close enough to follow, but
    not too close; he wasn't sure how much he trusted it. After what seemed like an hour, Harry was getting worried again. He didn't
    seem to be any closer to any kind of civilization, and he had no way of telling if the dog was bringing him deeper into the forest
    or out into the open. Just when he was beginning to think about giving up, he heard the dog in front of him give a happy yelp,
    and he emerged from the Forbidden Forest behind it. Panting heavily, he turned to face the dog, and his breath caught in his
    throat. It wasn't just any dog. It was completely transparent, something he had not been able to make out in the darkness of
    the Forbidden Forest. The ghost-dog looked up at Harry with dark eyes and Harry's stomach flipped. The huge, bear-like dog...
    the ghostly quality...those eyes... Harry transformed back into a human.
    "Sirius?" he asked, his voice wavering as he held out his hand towards the mysterious animal. As his fingers made contact
    with the silvery substance, the animal disappeared completely.
    ***********
    Christmas was quickly approaching at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The students were in high spirits and
    Ron, who had eventually forgiven Harry, was plotting the next Quidditch game against Slytherin - the game that would determine
    the winner of the Quidditch Cup. Harry, however, was involved in his own thoughts.
    A week after the incident, he still hadn't told anyone about his experience with the ghostly dog, since it would require him to
    tell them about his illegal animagi skills. Still, the vision of the animal haunted his dreams and made his wonder. Was it
    really Sirius? And if not, what exactly was it?
    He received his answer sooner than he would have thought. One evening for Care of Magical Creatures, in what Hagrid had labeled
    as a "practical lesson", the N.E.W.T. class, made up of all houses, was required to meet after dark to examine the nocturnal
    creatures of the Forbidden Forest. Harry's attention soon waned after Hagrid had pointed out the silvery mooncalf dung and a
    tiny horned toad on the bark of a tree. He trudged along the path alongside Rachel, Ron, and Hermione, mulling over his plans
    for Christmas break. He focused back on the conversation again when he heard Hannah Abbott gasp in surprise.
    "Hagrid, what kind of animal made those footprints?" she asked quietly, pointing to the ground. Harry's heart leapt into his
    throat as he stared at the forest floor: two sets of prints, one clearly a wolf's, and the other a larger animal's, led a
    straight line through a small clearing. Hagrid squatted on the ground (no small feat for a man of such a enormous size), and
    took a closer look.
    "Well, this one 'ere, tha's a wolf for sure," he said, tracing the outline of the smaller prints. Pansy Parkinson let out
    a shriek.
    "There's WOLVES in this forest?" she cried, huddling closer to Draco, who looked just as frightened. Harry snickered to himself.
    "Yeh, not too many though," Hagrid mumbled, studying the ground intensely. "It'll be these tracks that'll give ya a real
    surprise..." he said, touching the larger tracks.
    "What are they from, Hagrid?" Hermione asked, pushing her way to the front of the crowd of students. The expression on her
    face made it clear she was dying to know the answer. Hagrid didn't answer for a moment, but touched the ground again with
    his enormous finger.
    "Tha'd be the tracks of a Gytrash, Hermione," he replied quietly. A few students in the group gasped, seeming to know what
    that was. "It's a giant ghost o' a dog or horse, depends on how it decides to take its shape. Usually only show up fer leadin'
    lost travelers back home. Some folks say a Gytrash is the ghost of a lov'd one who's been lost, but tha's an old wives' tale."
    "If it's a ghost, how come it leaves footprints?" Draco asked, surprising the class with such an intelligent question.
    "Don' rightly know, but they always do," Hagrid replied knowingly. "They like to leave their mark, those animals." He continued
    to stare at the ground, frowning slightly. "What I can't figure is why there aren't any human footprints. Gytrash aren't real
    friendly with other animals, ya see. Jus' with helpin' out wizards who're lost. Must've been some real strange situation with
    this wolf."
    Harry's heart was thumping so loudly he thought the entire class would be able to hear it. _Sirius,_ he thought wildly.
    _It WAS you!_
    ******************
    I'm getting way off track of where I planned to be with this fic, but I'm having fun, so no worries, lol. Hope everyone's
    enjoying this, and thank you again to those of you who just started reading!
    Thanks to my reviewers:
    From hpff.com:
    prongs
    Bregmaniak
    siriussnape
    JuJu
    PadfootPotter
    MarZ
    ChRiS
    estonian gal
    dumbeldave
    dont wasn
    Dragznor
    Hadassah
    From ff.net:
    potterorligurl
    EriEka127
    Natural Anthem
    


	22. Chapter 23


    **Chapter 23: A Quidditch Disaster
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "You can discover what your enemy fears most by observing the means he uses to frighten you."
    -Eric Hoffer
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    Harry was convinced that the ghostly dog he had seen was Sirius. He had tried to question Hagrid more thoroughly on the matter,
    but the teacher brushed him aside.
    "Harry, there's no way sum'n who's dead could come back as a dog. Yer either a ghost or yer dead, there's no in-between.
    All that talk's codswallop, I wouldn' even think on it," he had replied, waving his giant hand in the air. Harry, however,
    refused to give up.
    The next night he stared listlessly at his homework as he sat in the common room. Now that he was a seventh year, he had
    less classes but somehow more work to do outside of class than he ever had before. A gentle snow had begun to fall outside
    and he stared out the window wistfully, wishing that he could revisit the Forbidden Forest. _Maybe I can, after everyone's
    asleep..._ Hastily, he glanced around the room. It was still too early; everyone was still awake. _I'll have to wait
    until later_, he thought angrily to himself, picking up his Charms book and trying to immerse himself in it. The chapter
    he was supposed to be studying seemed pointless and he couldn't concentrate. The minutes continued to drag on and on, until
    finally only a few people remained in the room. Ron and Hermione were practicing Transfiguration spells and didn't look like
    they would be giving up any time soon. Harry stood up, faking a yawn.
    "Hey guys, I'm going to head upstairs. Goodnight," he said, gathering his books and rushing up the steps to the Heads'
    dormitories. Hermione glanced up at the staircase just in time to see Harry disappear around the bend. Her eyes narrowed.
    "Something funny's going on with Harry," she said slowly, turning to Ron. "Don't you think so?" Ron shrugged.
    "Seems fine to me. Now, why can't I get this pumpkin to turn into a squash?" he asked, exasperated. Hermione rolled her eyes.
    "You're doing the wand movements all wrong, it's like this..."
    ***********
    Harry dashed into his bedroom and closed the curtains around his bed, making sure that Ron wouldn't be able to see inside when
    he came upstairs from the common room. He took only his wand, sliding it deep within his robes, and turned to the painting on
    the wall. Secretly opening it, he followed the passageway until he reached the hallway. He slipped out the door near the
    Great Hall, just as he had done only a few days before. The snow was quickly covering the ground, and Harry winced as he
    realized he was leaving footprints. _It's windy,_ he told himself. _They'll disappear soon._ He practically ran to
    the edge of the forest, being careful to stay in the shadows of the castle to avoid being seen by anyone. A few feet into
    the Forbidden Forest he looked around and, feeling satisfied that he was alone, transformed into his animagus. The wolf
    immediately took over, and all of his pent-up energy from sitting inside and studying all day was released as he ran freely
    through the trees. After a short while, he stopped as he remembered why he had come. _Sirius,_ he thought, his senses
    sharpening. He began to sniff the ground, searching for something, anything that could help him find his lost friend.
    The wind had picked up considerably and the snow was now flinging itself at Harry's face, stinging his eyes and nose. He
    stumbled through the undergrowth, but the weather was making it impossible for him to find any sign of the strange dog.
    Sitting back on his haunches, he let out a single mournful howl. The seconds after he stopped seemed like an eternity, but
    in the end there was no response. Harry took a deep breath and tried again.
    "Ooouuuuuuuuuuuuuu!"
    The sound echoed through the empty forest, rising above the noise of the wind but still it was not answered. Harry stood up
    and shook the snow off of his coat. Hanging his head and dropping his gaze to avoid the onslaught of the freezing snow, he
    began the long walk back to his dormitory.
    ***********
    "Hermione!" Someone whispering her name aloud made Hermione's eyes snap open. She glanced over at Ginny's bed, but saw that
    the curtains were still shut. Then she realized it had been a male voice.
    "Hermione," Ron repeated hoarsely, trying to squeeze in through the doorway without letting in too much light from the hallway.
    "Ron? What's wrong?" she asked immediately, keeping her voice down as she struggled to sit upright. He motioned with his
    head towards the door.
    "Come outside for a second." A little worried, she scrambled out of bed and followed him.
    "What is it?" she asked at a normal tone, once they were outside the room where Ginny was still fast asleep. Ron sighed, running
    his hand through his messy red hair.
    "Well... remember how you said something was funny with Harry? He's uh... not in his bed anymore..."
    "HE'S WHAT?!"
    "Shhhh!" Ron whispered frantically. "You don't want to wake up everyone in the whole bloody tower, do you?"
    "Ron, what are we going to do?" she asked, looking up at him anxiously.
    "I... I don't know," he confessed, looking worried.
    "I'm going to find Professor McGonagall, right now!" Hermione said, starting towards the door.
    "Hermione! What are you doing? He'll kill us if we tell!" Ron pleaded desperately.
    "How do you know he hasn't been captured by Death Eaters or something?" she asked, her temper rising. "Are we just supposed
    to assume he's out goofing off? This isn't any student Ron, it's Harry Potter, for Merlin's sake! You've seen how often he
    gets into trouble, bad trouble, and if we're not there to stop him-"
    "Mione," Ron said, holding up a hand. "You saw how he ran upstairs when he said he was going to bed, I'm sure he planned it
    all. I don't know where he went but I don't think anyone forced him to go."
    "Are you sure though? Did he leave a note?" she asked.
    "I didn't see one-"
    "We'll go check," Hermione insisted, grabbing Ron's arm and dragging him towards he and Harry's bedroom. She went over to
    Harry's bed immediately and began to investigate.
    "Hmmm... the bed's completely made... He didn't even go to sleep. No note at all..." She sighed deeply as she sat down on
    the end of his bed and put her hand to her forehead. "Now what? We can't just go to sleep and hope he'll be here in the
    morning!"
    "Hermione, we can't tell McGonagall! She'll kill him, and he'll kill us! It'll be a bloody massacre, I'm telling you-"
    CREAK!
    Ron and Hermione's heads turned simultaneously towards the left side of the room. Hermione gasped.
    "Harry?" Ron asked incredulously as a painting of a lake swung forward. "What the hell... Where were you?" Harry gulped at
    the sound of Ron's voice; he seemed very angry. _Now I'm going to have to come up with some sort of explanation,_ he
    thought miserably as he faced his two best friends, both of whom looked very cross. Hermione's arms were folded across her
    nightgown and Ron's face was getting redder by the moment.
    "Er... I'm sorry," he muttered, now standing completely inside the room. His clothing was drenched from the snow and he stood
    close to the wall, a small puddle forming under his feet.
    "What-what is this?" Ron asked, gesturing towards the painting. "A trapdoor? And what were you doing?"
    "We thought you'd been kidnapped!" Hermione cried, still looking angry but also relieved. Harry felt guilt engulfing him.
    He had made his friends horribly upset, all over a silly vision he had seen... He had no proof that it had ever been Sirius...
    "Sit down, I'll tell you the whole thing," he said tiredly, pulling off his sopping wet cloak and t-shirt and stepping out
    of his trainers. He pulled a blanket off of his bed to wrap aroun himself and began. "Well, first off, I'm an unregistered
    animagus." Hermione glared at him. "I know, I know, it's wrong," he said sarcastically. "So the other day, I decided to go
    for a walk in the woods-"
    "In the Forbidden Forest? In your animagus form?" Hermione cried. "Harry, tell me you didn't."
    "Er... Sorry, well I did-" Harry tried.
    "What is it?" Ron asked excitedly, apparently no longer worried about Harry's well-being. "What form is your animagus?"
    "A wolf," he answered proudly. "A timber wolf I think, with gray and a little bit of white-"
    "Finish the story," Hermione growled. "So you've just been going out during the night for walks in the forest, is that what
    you're telling us?"
    "Let me finish," Harry said, clearly annoyed with the interruption. "So the first time I went into the woods, I went really
    far and I got lost-"
    "Figures," Hermione muttered. Harry pretended he hadn't heard her.
    "-and I howled, and this dog sort of thing came up to me. I was worried at first, but eventually I followed it and it led me
    out of the woods." Hermione inhaled sharply.
    "The gytrash! So that's why the wolf footprints were in the forest! Hagrid said they don't usually associate with animals..."
    she said thoughtfully.
    "Hagrid said that some people think a gytrash is a loved one leading you to safety. I thought..." he trailed off before
    continuing. "I thought it might have been Sirius." Ron looked at him sympathetically.
    "But mate, I think that's just a story, it's probably not really true." Harry sighed.
    "Yeah, I know. I'm sure it wasn't. But it looked just like him, when he transformed... I was just so sure. So I thought if
    I went out tonight and howled, maybe it would show up again. But it didn't."
    "I think we should all just go to bed," Hermione said quietly. "It's nearly 3 AM and we have classes tomorrow."
    "Tomorrow's Friday... we have Potions," Ron muttered, looking sick. Hermione said goodnight and retreated to her own room.
    Harry took off the rest of his wet clothing and changed into his pajamas.
    "I'm glad it's nearly the weekend," Harry mumbled as he took off his glasses before lying in his bed. Ron snorted.
    "Glad? We play Slytherin on Saturday! What is there to look forward to?" Harry felt a lump of fear in his chest. That game
    wasn't going to be pretty...
    ************
    Harry awoke early on Saturday morning and dragged himself down to breakfast. It was before 8 AM, so most of the other students
    were still asleep. The few that were up were chatting excitedly about winter break, which was only a week away. Harry couldn't
    even think about something that far away; the only thought in his mind was the game against Slythering that would take place
    in only a few hours. Harry grabbed a piece of toast and a glass of orange juice, though he knew he would hardly eat anything.
    He was just too nervous.
    Though the games were usually spread out through the entire school year, after the attacks earlier that year Dumbledore had
    made the decision to group them closer together. The result had been a game nearly every other weekend, which had been
    stressful for Harry but even worse for Ron. Trying to get the team to practice every day had been quite a challenge. Harry
    had an idea that Dumbledore had done this to get the games over with as soon as possible; each Quidditch match drew so many
    people that they were becoming easy targets for attacks.
    Other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team had begun to appear and the group began to congregate at one end of the table.
    Ron came down eventually, with Hermione by his side. They sat by Harry, and he noticed the look of determination on Ron's face.
    After a short while, the team moved outside; the snow had stopped falling, and the ground was covered in a layer of beautiful
    shining white. Harry wrapped his cloak around him tightly, shivering a bit, while Ron kicked the ground angrily.
    "This isn't going to help any... the glare from the snow'll just be in our eyes..." he muttered. They entered the locker room.
    Gathering the team around him, Ron began his pep talk. "All right everyone. As you all know, this is our final game." Harry
    felt his stomach drop. _The final game. This is it. My last Quidditch game,_ he suddenly realized. "We've beat them
    before, and we can do it again. We will win the Cup! We will win the tournament! We're going to go out there and show them
    how it's supposed to be done. We are going to WIN!" The team cheered loudly, but Harry felt the anxious tension in his chest
    mounting. He could hear the announcements echoing in the stadium.
    "And here comes the Slytherin team - Captain Draco Malfoy, beaters Crabbe and Goyle..." Dean's voice was drowned out by the
    cheers from the Slytherin section.
    "Now welcome the Gryffindors! Captain Ron Weasley, beaters Sloper and Kirke, seeker Potter..." Harry flew into the arena and
    his fears seemed to melt away. He could do this, he could handle the pressure, just one last time.
    "I want a CLEAN game!" Madam Hooch shouted from the middle of the field. "Some of us do not seem to understand what this means,
    but know this, I will not hesitate to penalize any player that violates the rules!" She raised her whistle to her mouth and
    the match began.
    As Madam Hooch had predicted, the game immediately got very dirty. A Slytherin chaser knocked Euan Abercrombie off his broom,
    and the Gryffindors paid back the favor when Kirke lobbed a Bludger towards Crabbe's head. Harry was slowly circling the
    stadium but made sure to stay far off to the side, to avoid the melee in the center. He heard the crowd gasp and looked up to
    see Ginny Weasley danging from her broom 50 feet in the air. She managed to pull herself back on again, but looked shaky and
    scared. Madam Hooch was nearly screaming at Goyle.
    "But I didn't see her!" he protested, shrugging his huge shoulders.
    "I DON'T CARE IF YOU SAW HER! PENALTY FOR GRYFFINDOR!" Ginny took the shot, but she was still too shaken up to make it. Harry
    resumed his circling, keeping an eye on Draco at all times.
    Suddenly, there it was - the glittering Snitch, just across the field. Harry glanced rapidly over towards Draco before zooming
    towards it, speeding as fast as he could. Within moments, Draco was close behind him and gaining on him every second. Everything
    seemed to be in slow motion; Harry could feel the snowflakes that had begun to fall hitting his forehead one by one, he could
    practically hear Draco's labored breathing beside him as he rushed to catch up. The crowd screamed but neither Harry nor Draco
    paid them any attention. They were approaching the gold ball quickly. Two hands reached out, fumbling blindly in the cold
    winter air - and one managed to catch the Snitch.
    Harry blinked back tears of joy as he stared at the winged ball, its feeble wings attempting to fly away.
    "I won... I won!" he cried, looking up at the crowd. But no one had noticed. Everyone was standing up and there was some sort
    of uproar. Harry glanced at Draco to his left, and was surprised to see him looking shocked and more pale than usual.
    "What's going on?" he asked him. Draco shook his head slowly.
    "I don't know..." Draco whispered, lowering himself to the ground. Harry gasped as dark cloaked figures began appearing around
    them.
    "Death Eaters!" Ron exclaimed, rushing to his side. "Harry, we have to get out of here!"
    "We have to fight!" Harry replied, pulling his wand out from deep inside his robes.
    "All students are to report to their dormitories immediately! No exceptions!" McGonagall's voice echoed over the stadium.
    Teachers and staff had begun to pour onto the field, fighting against the Death Eaters. Most of the students seemed to be
    far enough away to be out of the danger.
    "Harry!" He looked down to see Rachel pulling at his sleeve. "Please, let's go," she pleaded, looking at him with fear in her
    eyes.
    "Harry, get out of here!" He looked up to see Kingsley Shaklebolt standing a few feet away from him. He didn't need to be
    told again. Grabbing Rachel's hand, he rushed out of the area along with Ron. They reached the castle safely, and Harry made
    sure that Rachel got back to the Hufflepuff tower before going to his own. He didn't see Hermione or Ron anywhere in the
    common room on the first floor, so he headed up the spiral staircase to the Heads' common room. They were both seated on
    a sofa, along with Ginny, looking fearful.
    "What was that?" Harry asked breathlessly.
    "I don't know where they came from, I think through the Forbidden Forest. But they were all wearing invisibility cloaks, no
    one knew until they were standing right beside us all!" Hermione replied, her tone worrisome.
    "Why," Harry groaned, collapsing onto the sofa beside them.
    "Probably just for the hell of it," Ron growled.
    "Wanted to stir things up before the election," Hermione added, craning her neck to see out the small window at the edge of
    the room.
    "Election? When is the election?" Ron asked. She sighed impatiently.
    "January, Ron. I would have thought, you of all people... After growing up in the magical world, you still don't know-"
    "Stop fighting, you two. We have worse things to worry about than elections for the Minster of Magic," Harry said, standing up
    and walking over to the window. Ginny followed him.
    "Can you see anything?" she asked. Harry shook his head.
    "Not really..."
    **************
    At 3 PM, the trio heard their door open and looked up to see Professor McGonagall standing in the doorway.
    "What's happened?" Hermione cried, jumping up out of her chair.
    "Is anyone hurt?" Harry asked.
    Professor McGonagall sighed. "The attack is over and it is now safe for students to move about the castle. As Head Boy and Girl,
    I thought I should inform you first. There were some serious injuries, but thankfully no one was killed. Will you both please
    inform the younger students of this? You can help as well, Mr. Weasley, you're a prefect." With a nod, she turned toward the
    door. "I must go, I have urgent business to attend to." Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way downstairs to the main common
    room and began spreading the word.
    That evening at dinner, Professor Dumbledore made an announcement. "Thank you everyone for your cooperation today. The incident
    on the Quidditch pitch, while short-lived, is a statement of Voldemort's growing power. Please remember that your safety is
    in question in anything that you do. Keep an eye out for suspicious events, and report them to a professor or to myself as
    soon as possible. Thank you."
    ************
    The final week before break was filled with tension. Students roamed the halls in packs, afraid to be alone even for a few
    minutes. The professors seemed to be on edge at all times. Harry was glad when it was finally Friday. He had decided to
    spend his winter break at 12 Grimmauld Place with Ron. Hermione was going on a vacation with her parents for a week to visit
    Mexico and would be joining them later. Harry had tried to convince Rachel to come with them, but she declined his offer.
    "I should see my family," she said stubbornly. "I'll try to come back towards the end of break, we'll see." It had made Harry
    a little angry, but then again, she was right. They were her family.
    Ron and Harry got off of the Hogwart's Express and met up with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Ginny trailed behind the two best friends,
    her trunk stuffed to the seams.
    "Ginny, this thing's overloaded!" George complained, trying to pick it up.
    "It's gonna blow!" Fred cried, ducking as the clasps on the trunk broke and the items inside came falling out. Mrs. Weasley
    glared at them both.
    "Stop it, you two. You'd think you were still three year olds!" she chastised, repairing the trunk and increasing its size with
    a few quick spells. "Come along, we've got a cab waiting..."
    ************
    Rachel was glad to be 'home', or at least a place she could consider to be home. She put all of her belongings up in the
    spare bedroom and changed into nicer robes for dinner. She headed downstairs, expecting a delicious meal. When she entered
    the formal dining room, her father and brothers were already there.
    "Rachel!" her father said, smiling. She noticed his eyes didn't seem to reflect the happiness of his voice and found this odd.
    _What am I doing? Now I'm questioning my own family?_ she thought, disgusted with herself.
    The house-elf came bustling into the room, carrying several drinks. He set the first in front of Rachel. She looked at it, an
    odd expression on her face.
    "What is this stuff?" she asked, sniffing it.
    "It's a mix of cherry and pumpking juice, really marvelous. You must try it," her father said, grinning. Audric was looking
    at her with a smirk on his face and she wondered why. She took a sip of the drink and nodded.
    "It's pretty good," she said, setting the glass back down.
    "Have more, there's plenty where that came from," Mr. Marvolo said. She took another drink and suddenly felt an odd sensation.
    Her arms fell to her sides and her head lolled forward towards her chest. "There's a good girl," he said with a sadistic grin.
    "Now, tell us, where is Harry Potter?"
    "At Ron's house," Rachel said in an unnaturally monotone voice.
    "The Weasleys' house burned to the ground. Where is he?" Mr. Marvolo demanded.
    "Wherever Ron is living now," Rachel replied.
    "When will Harry Potter be outside the school grounds after break?" Armro asked insistently.
    "There's a Hogsmeade weekend, the week after we're back in school," Rachel said.
    "That's it!" Audric exclaimed. "Perfect. The Dark Lord will reward us for this information!" Mr. Marvolo grinned again.
    "Wonderful job, boys," he said.
    ************
    Whew! That chapter took me FOREVER, sorry about that. But it's longer than usual, if it's any consolation! I know a lot happened
    in this chapter, hope I'm not confusing anyone. I must say thank you again to my wonderful readers!!
    From hpff.com:
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	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 24: Christmas
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    Love is like pi - natural, irrational, and very important.
    -Lisa Hoffman
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    The week at Number 12 Grimmauld Place had been a pleasant one. Mrs. Weasley had cleaned the house up to the extent that Harry
    could barely recognize it from what it had been when he had first seen it two years ago. Everything seemed bright and homey,
    and though he knew that Mrs. Black would never have approved of the Weasleys' mis-matched furniture, to Harry it all seemed
    right. For once in their life, all the Weasley children had their own bedrooms and more to spare. _It's perfect for them,_
    he thought peacefully one night as he sat around the fireplace with Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George. It was Christmas Eve and
    Mrs. Weasley was putting the final touches on the Christmas pudding.
    "Wonder when Hermione'll get here," Ron mused lazily, his long limbs draping over the edge of the armchair he was sitting in.
    "What did you get her for Christmas?" Harry asked curiously. Ron blushed a deep red.
    "Aww, let's see, Ron!" Ginny chimed in.
    "You can't see, it's already wrapped," Ron grumbled. "And besides, if I did tell you, you'd probably just go and tell her-"
    "I would not!" Ginny replied hotly. "I can keep a secret!"
    "Stop fighting, it's Christmas Eve!" Mrs. Weasley chided. "Come up to the table, the pudding's ready." Still glaring at Ron,
    Ginny marched up to the table. The pudding was delicious, but the conversation left something to be desired. After Ron and
    Ginny's fight, only Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were speaking. The twins managed to lob a clump of pudding into Ron's hair when
    Mrs. Weasley wasn't looking, and that only made him angrier. Mr. Weasley sighed and muttered a quick cleaning spell.
    "I wish we could just have one night where we could just get along as a family," he said. "Now, I don't want any more
    interruptions-"
    There was a loud knock on the door. Ron jumped out of his chair, nearly knocking it over with his long legs.
    "I'll get it!" he cried, running out of the room. Fred looked at George curiously.
    "Hmm, who do you suppose he thinks it is?" he asked his brother sarcastically. Ron returned to the room, looking triumphant
    and accompanied by Hermione.
    "Hello Hermione, it's wonderful to see you!" Mrs. Weasley said graciously, standing up. "Did you want some pudding? There's
    still a bit left."
    "Oh, no thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, sounding exhausted. Harry noticed she was staring at the ground and her eyes
    looked a little red. "I'm quite tired, I think I'll just go upstairs."
    "Okay dear," Mrs. Weasley said, sounding worried. Hermione attempted a smile before retreating back towards the staircase.
    Harry and Ron followed her, Ron grabbing her trunk and Harry her backpack. They walked up the stairs wordlessly and continued
    until they reached Hermione's bedroom.
    "Hermione... are you feeling okay?" Harry asked hesitantly as he and Ron set down her belongings. She turned to face the two
    boys, tears welling up in her eyes.
    "I was supposed to spend Christmas with my parents," she said quietly, trying to hold back a sob. "We got in a fight. They're
    happy I'm a witch and everything, but they don't understand how important this world is to me... I can't just go back into the
    muggle world and pretend like everything's normal again." Ron sat next to her on the bed and rubbed her back gently.
    "I'm sorry, Mione," he said softly. "I wish there was something I could do." She wiped her eyes.
    "This is silly. It's almost Christmas, I should be happy, right?" She laughed coldly and looked down. There was a knock on the
    door and the hinges squeaked open.
    "Everything okay in here?" Fred asked, peering in. "Mum told me to let you three know they're going to bed, and she thinks you
    should too, before it gets too late."
    "Wouldn't want the ickle kiddies waiting up for Santa!" George cackled from behind him.
    "We're going, we're going," Ron grumbled, standing up.
    "So're we," George said simply, as he and Fred disapparated with a loud crack.
    "Well, we're rid of them," Ron said thankfully. "Who wants some butterbeer?" With a tiny smile, Hermione stood up.
    "Are you coming, Harry?" she asked him politely.
    "Er, no... I think I'm going to bed," he said, smirking at Ron. "I'll leave you two alone."
    *******************
    Harry groaned as he heard a loud voice yelling into his ear.
    "It's too early..." he muttered, pulling his pillow over his head. He felt a soft object thump him on his upper back and
    rolled over to see Ron's pillow lying on his own bed.
    "C'mon Harry, get up! Happy Christmas!" Ron cried, jumping up and down.
    "Stop throwing things at me, for Merlin's sake," Harry grumbled. "You're acting like you're five years old!"
    "You sound like Hermione," Ron scoffed. "Now come on, let's go downstairs and open our presents!" Harry pulled himself out of
    bed and followed Ron. As the two young men reached the room where the slightly bent Christmas tree was, Harry couldn't help
    but feel that childhood excitement rising within him. _Christmas,_ he thought grinning as he ripped into his first present.
    _This is a great holiday!_
    "Aaah! Thank you!" Ginny squealed, pulling a Teen Witch makeup kit out of a box. Hermione had just come down the stairs and
    was grinning at Ginny. She came towards Ron and Harry and sat on the floor, but stayed off to the side a little.
    "Hermione, come over by us!" Ron yelled, reaching for another present. Hermione's smile faded. The door creaked open and
    Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Charlie entered.
    "Happy Christmas, everyone!" Mr. Weasley called out in a jolly voice.
    "Hermione, why don't you come open some presents?" Harry asked her quietly. She shook her head.
    "I probably don't have any... at least not from my parents. They're so furious that I left before Christmas.." She sighed.
    "Well, you'll still have something from Ron, and me, and the Weasleys!" Harry said, feeling sympathetic.
    "There's one right here with your name on it," Ron added, pulling a tiny box from the pile. He gave her a smile as he handed
    her the box, but Harry could see right through him - he looked worried. Hermione turned the box over in her hands and glanced
    at the gift tag. It was from Ron. She grinned.
    "Thanks, Ron," she said, and began unwrapping. She gasped as she opened the box. "Oh, wow, this is beautiful-"
    "Wotcher, it's a party!" a familiar female voice called from the doorway. "Happy Christmas!"
    "Tonks!" Ginny cried happily as the green-haired ex-Auror made her way into the room. She was followed closely by none other than
    Remus Lupin. Harry looked up at him, grinning. As he stood up to greet him, he noticed Hermione was holding a gold chain with
    an a light green stone hanging off of it. _Ron's mystery present,_ he thought to himself. He focused his attention on
    Remus, walking through the crowded room towards his former Defense teacher.
    "How're you doing?" Harry asked him. Remus smiled.
    "Not too bad. And yourself?"
    "I'm fine. I haven't seen you in ages, but I'm glad you decided to come back."
    "I told you I would," Remus replied seriously. "Can I have a word with you in the kitchen?"
    "Oh, er, of course," Harry said, beginning to think something was wrong. He followed Remus through the doorway and into the
    next room, where a shabbily-wrapped present lay on the long wooden table.
    "Your Christmas present," Remus told him triumphantly. Harry looked at him curiously. "Go on, open it!" Harry hurriedly ripped
    the wrapping paper off and was surprised to find a bottle marked "Morton's Magic Motorbike Polish", a black and red helmet, and
    a complete polishing kit. Harry's eyes were as wide as saucers.
    "Now mind you, I wouldn't go telling Molly about this," Remus said anxiously, his voice low. "But I thought that might come
    in handy since I've convinced Professor Dumbledore that since the motorbike does belong to you, you should be allowed to keep
    it at Hogwart's. You would only be able to ride it on school grounds, of course-"
    Grinning, Harry stood up and gave Remus a hug, surprising even himself with his action.
    "Thank you so much," Harry said, staring at the box full of goodies. "I can't even... wow..."
    "Sirius would have been thrilled to know you got to bring that thing to school," Remus said, rolling his eyes. They both
    laughed, and Harry felt as if another weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He would have given anything to have Sirius
    there with them at that moment, but he knew it was impossible. Talking about Sirius openly with Remus was good enough.
    **************
    Before they knew it, the holiday was over and it was time to return to Hogwart's. Harry was slightly bitter that Rachel had
    not come to visit at 12 Grimmauld Place and even more so that she had not returned any of his owls. He sat silently on the
    Scarlet Express, staring at the ceiling and wishing he felt as happy as he had on Christmas Day. Hermione noticed this and
    gave him a sympathetic glance.
    "Don't worry about it, Harry. I'm sure she was just busy with the holidays and all..." Hermione tried, sounding unconvinced.
    Harry snorted but didn't answer.
    "Maybe something bad happened to her," Ginny said, her eyes wide. "Doesn't she live with Death Eaters or something? You never
    know..."
    "She's perfectly fine," Harry grunted. "She just didn't feel like answering any of my letters."
    "What kind of relationship is that, mate?" Ron asked, grimacing. "I mean, what's the point? Just break up with her if she
    doesn't talk to you." He bit into a chocolate frog.
    "Ron, it isn't that simple. You can't just dump someone because they're having problems!" Hermione said, sounding exasperated.
    She watched as he devoured the rest of the candy. Ron shrugged.
    "Why not? It's not Harry's problem." Hermione rolled her eyes but declined to comment further. The train came to a halt and
    Ron peeked out the window.
    "We're here!" he announced, standing up. The group made their way outside and trudged toward the castle.
    "Wow, there's really a lot of people coming back right now," Harry observed, looking at all the other students surrounding
    them. A few had taken the train; others had been dropped off by their parents or were walking in from Hogsmeade. A few
    snowball fights had broken out on the way into the building, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione managed to stay out of them. They
    made it safely to Gryffindor tower and into the main common room.
    "Harry, did you hear?" Parvati shrieked as he entered the common room.
    "Hear what?" he asked tiredly, dropping his trunk to the ground.
    "About Rachel!" Lavendar added in a whisper. Harry glanced between the two of them.
    "Er.. no..."
    "She fainted as she was coming into the building! She's up in the hospital wing right now," Parvati said matter-of-factly.
    "We were wondering if you knew anything about it."
    "No, I didn't-"
    "Who fainted?" asked a fourth-year, snapping her gum loudly.
    "Rachel Wheaton, you know, that Hufflepuff girl-" Harry pushed his way through the crowd towards the exit. He felt a hand on
    his shoulder and turned to see Ron standing beside him.
    "Sorry about all that stuff I said," he muttered. "D'you want me to come with you?" Harry shook his head.
    "I'll be fine." With that, he took off towards the hospital wing at a remarkable pace. He was there within minutes and pushed
    the heavy door open slowly, worried about what he would find inside. Madam Pomfrey, Professor Dumbledore, and, surprisingly,
    Professor Snape were huddled around the closest bed. Rachel lay on the bed, now fully conscious but looking confused.
    "I'll have to do a few tests," Snape was saying. He strolled haughtily towards the door. "Out of the way, Potter," he hissed
    as he walked past him. Dumbledore smiled benignly at Harry.
    "Rach, are you okay?" Harry asked as he walked over to her bedside.
    "Oh, yes, I'm sure I'll be fine... I just felt a little dizzy before and all of a sudden I blacked out," she replied weakly.
    "Have you been feeling all right this week?" Madam Pomfrey asked, bustling around the bed.
    "Well... not really. I've been forgetting things, sometimes I'll realize I don't know what's happened in the last hour or so.
    It's happened about four times this week." Pomfrey and Dumbledore exchanged a significant glance.
    "Have you been eating or drinking anything differently than normal?" Madam Pomfrey asked. Rachel frowned in concentration.
    "No... not really... I can't think of anything." Madam Pomfrey nodded.
    "Very well, I will ask that you stay here for a half hour to rest. After that, you may go to dinner and return to your dormitory."
    "I'm very sorry I never answered your owls Harry, I just wasn't myself over the holiday. I felt sick all of the time," Rachel
    said, looking concerned.
    "Oh, it's okay, don't worry about anything," Harry replied guiltily. He was kicking himself for having had that conversation
    about breaking up with Rachel on the train. Rachel yawned.
    "I'm going to take a little nap, I'm exhausted. I'll see you at dinner, okay?" Harry nodded and stood up.
    "Mr. Potter, could I have a word with you outside?" Dumbledore asked him, also standing up. Harry agreed and followed him
    out the door. "Actually, it might be better if we were to... talk a walk," Dumbledore added.
    "Okay..." Harry said, unaware of where the conversation was going.
    "So how was your holiday? Did you have a good Christmas?" Dumbledore inquired. Harry smiled.
    "It was great. Remus came by. He told me that you were letting me keep the motorbike here," he said.
    "Oh yes. He brought it by this morning. It's being stored in the shed behind Hagrid's hut, so just talk to him when you want
    to use it, he'll unlock the door for you." They continued their conversation for a few minutes until Harry realized they
    were in the dungeons.
    "Er... Professor Dumbledore, where are we going?" Harry asked curiously.
    "You'll see, we're nearly there," was the only reply he got. Harry kept following Dumbledore, and realized with a sinking
    feeling that he knew exactly where they were going...
    "Ah, here we are," Dumbledore said, stopping outside Professor Snape's office. "Do come in, Harry." He followed the headmaster
    inside and found Professor Snape there, pouring various potions into a small cauldron. He cast an angry glare in Harry's
    direction. Harry felt a flame of outrage rising in his chest. _You greasy git,_ he thought furiously. He was suddenly
    aware of another voice in his head. _Watch what you're thinking when you are emotional and around other Legilimens,_
    it mocked him. Harry's eyes narrowed as he stared at Snape, who was now smirking at him from across the table.
    "So Severus," Professor Dumbledore said, breaking the two men out of their unspoken fight. "What are the results?" Snape
    raised his eyebrows.
    "You wish to speak of this in front of him?" he asked, gesturing rudely towards Harry. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but
    Dumbledore held up a hand.
    "Yes I do," he said simply, turning to Harry. "What you hear cannot leave this room, do you understand?" Harry nodded. "Very
    well Severus, please tell us." Professor Snape poured a few droplets of a purple liquid into the cauldron and it began to
    boil. The substance inside turned bright orange.
    "The girl has been under the effects of Vertiaserum," he said slowly. "Quite a bit, too." Harry's mind was working a million
    miles an hour.
    "You mean Rachel?" he asked, realization dawning upon him finally. Dumbledore nodded.
    "Yes, Harry. I'm sorry to tell you. But whatever you do, you mustn't tell her - if her family finds out she knows, they may
    well kill her. It would be dangerous for them to know that we have this knowledge and, with the proper spell, could make her
    recall what questions they asked her."
    "But... you're not going to tell anyone? I mean, why would you even let me know?" He was getting angrier and angrier every
    minute.
    "The purpose of bringing you here was so you would be aware. I urge you to remain close to Rachel, but do not divulge important
    secrets. Anything you tell her has the possibility of ending up in Voldemort's hands." With that, Dumbledore gestured towards
    the door. "Please remember that, Harry. You may leave now."
    ************************
    Okay, so that was probably about the longest it has ever taken me to update... Again, I apologize. I planned to finish this
    entire story by the end of April, but now I'm not sure if I will be able to. I don't want to have to cram all of the events
    into a few chapters. I will be gone all of May, and if it isn't done by then, I guess I'll just take a month-long break.
    However, I will try my hardest to finish before then.
    Thanks to all of my AMAZING readers. I don't know what I would do without you!!!
    Thank you's:
    hpff.com:fanfiction.net:
    Lupinzgurlmy one and only faithful reader of the last chapter, potterorligurl!!
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	24. Chapter 24


    **Chapter 25: All's Fair in Love and War
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "Mankind must put an end to war, or war will put an end to mankind."
    -John Fitzgerald Kennedy
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    Harry and Ron walked back from the Great Hall after dinner, taking their time. Hermione had rushed out of the meal nearly
    half an hour before, saying that she had somewhere to be. When they finally reached Gryffindor Tower, Harry and Ron found
    that 'somewhere' was in the Heads' Common Room, huddled on the floor with a wizarding radio.
    "Hermione, what-" Ron began, but he was immediately cut off by a loud "Shh!" from Hermione. She gave him a reproving glance.
    "I'm listening to the debates!" she hissed, turning the radio up louder.
    "The what?" Ron mouthed silently to Harry. Harry just shrugged. The radio cracked and the speaker's voice rang throughout
    the room.
    "-well, that's all for tonight, thanks to everyone for being here-" Hermione turned the radio off.
    "Er, Hermione, what exactly were you listening to?" Harry asked curiously.
    "The debates between the candidates for Minister of Magic. The election is coming up soon, you know," she said.
    "Oh, right!" Ron exclaimed. "It's just Fudge and that Barnett guy, right?"
    "Actually, someone else decided to run this morning," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. "Look at this." She threw a copy
    of that morning's Daily Prophet in front of them.
    _**Lockhart announces candidacy for Minister**_, the headline read.
    "What?!" Harry and Ron said at the same time.
    "I thought he was still in St. Mungo's with his entire memory erased! What's he doing trying to run a country?" Ron asked,
    examining the story.
    "Apparently he's better," Hermione said dryly. Harry picked up the newspaper and began to read it aloud.
    _Gilderoy Lockhart, international celebrity and author, Order of Merlin 3rd class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense
    League, and Five-Time Winner of _Witch Weekly's_ Most Charming Smile Award-_
    "Yeah, yeah," Ron muttered. "Skip that part!"
    _-has announced his candidacy for the position of Minister of Magic. Though he had been in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical
    Maladies and Injuries for an extended period after a small injury from a spell-_
    "Small injury?! He forgot who he was!" Ron roared angrily.
    _-Lockhart has stated that he has recovered completely and is entirely able to take charge of the country. "If I was
    Minister, the problems with He-who-must-not-be-named would be over by now," he said. "I have experience with this type of
    thing. I've banished banshees, captured werewolves, done away with trolls... I believe in a strong defense against dark arts
    policy. For more information, see my published works." The two other candidates, incumbent Cornelius Fudge and member of the
    Wizengamot Bronson Barnett, can be heard debating their positions on issues tonight on the Wizarding Wireless Network at
    7 p.m._ Harry laid down the paper.
    "This is horrible," he lamented. Ron nodded mutely. "Who's this Bronson Barnett?" Harry asked Hermione.
    "I really like him," she said earnestly. Ron stiffened at this. "He's a bit young though, I'm not sure if he'll get elected.
    But when your other choices are Fudge or Lockhart..."
    "Yeah," Harry laughed mirthlessly.
    "Well, I should really get back to reading that chapter for Herbology," Hermione said with a sigh. The trio split up to do
    their homework for the night, leaving the Heads' Common Room deserted.
    ******************
    Harry had been reading for hours, and now the words were swimming in front of his eyes. He slammed the book shut, and got
    several angry glares from the people sitting around him in the library. He stood up hastily, grabbing his things.
    "Bloody Potions homework," he muttered, strolling out of the library doors. He shivered as he entered the hallway; the cold
    January air had seeped into the drafty castle. He wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck and began the long walk back up
    to Gryffindor Tower. He hoped Ron or Hermione was there. _Actually, I hope they're both there,_ he thought tiredly.
    _We have some things to discuss..._ The plans for defeating Voldemort were far from being worked out, and this was causing
    Harry lots of stress, in addition to the situation with Rachel being given Veritaserum by her father. He hadn't told Hermione
    or Ron anything about that yet.
    When Harry finally did get upstairs, he couldn't find either of them. Feeling exhausted, he climbed into bed and thanked his
    lucky stars that tomorrow would finally be Friday. He smiled to himself as he pulled the blankets up to keep out the cold
    draft. Not only was tomorrow Friday, it was also the first Hogsmeade visit since break was over. _I can't wait,_ Harry
    thought before drifting off to sleep.
    *****************
    Harry stared at his watch, willing the minute hand to move faster. Professor Flitwick had begun to teach the class about
    Color Changing Charms that day, and Harry had mastered the skill in a mere twenty minutes, Hermione just after him, and Ron
    was still having trouble. Harry glanced at his watch again. _The last class of the day... On a Friday..._
    "Why isn't this working?" Ron grumbled, pointing his wand at the flowerpot in front of him. "_Adfectioris!_" The pot
    remained brown. Harry leaned back in his chair.
    "This reminds me of that time he tried to turn Scabbers yellow on the train during first year," Harry joked. Ron gave him a
    death glare.
    "Mr. Weasley, I see you're still having problems. Your homework this weekend will be to practice this spell until you have
    it perfected," Professor Flitwick said as he walked by. "The rest of you can go a little early. Have a good weekend, everyone!"
    The students rushed out of the class, talking and laughing. Ron stayed stubbornly silent all the way back up to the dormitories.
    "I can't wait to go to Hogsmeade," Hermione said dreamily. "I haven't been there in so long." The portrait swung open and the
    trio entered the main Common Room. "I'm going to change quickly and put my backpack away, and then we can go, okay?" Hermione
    asked.
    "Sounds fine to me-" Harry began, but was interrupted by a loud noise. All of the students in the room looked around nervously.
    "What was that?" Dean Thomas asked quietly.
    "It's an attack!" Parvati shrieked. "Oh, I just know it is!"
    "Stop it," Hermione insisted. "You're being silly, and you're making the younger students upset." She gestured towards a group
    of second years who looked terrified. They heard the noise again, followed by a voice over what seemed to be an invisible
    loudspeaker.
    "All students are to return to their dormitories immediately. Any student who does not do so will be punished. The Hogsmeade
    trip for this afternoon has been cancelled. I repeat, all students please report to your dormitories right now." Harry recognized
    the voice as McGonagall's. He looked up at Ron and Hermione.
    "Now what," he muttered, glancing around the room. Most of the students looked quite worried.
    "Upstairs," Ron said in a low voice, leading the way. Ron, Harry, and Hermione managed to escape from the panicked-looking crowd.
    "What do you think is going on?" Harry asked. Hermione shook her head.
    "I know just as much as you," Ron said, collapsing into an armchair. "Parvati's probably right, it could be an attack."
    "Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Hermione said, sounding exasperated. "Even if it is an attack, that noise was from the sonorus spell,
    not from Death Eaters or something! Honestly," she sighed. A loud knock on the door startled them all. Harry answered it;
    Professor McGonagall was standing just outside, her normally stern expression seeming to carry more stress than usual.
    "Could you all come downstairs, please? I would like to make an announcement," she said tersely, leaving without waiting for
    an answer. Ron, Harry, and Hermione followed her.
    "Attention Gryffindors!" McGonagall called over the noise of the crowd. The room was immediately silenced and all eyes were
    focused on the Transfiguration professor. "As you should have heard, the Hogsmeade trip this afternoon has been called off
    because of a security threat. All students are to remain in their rooms until further notice. The portrait door will be locked
    to prevent anyone from leaving." A few students groaned; someone mumbled, "But it's Friday!"
    McGonagall gave the group a stern glare. "This is for your own safety," she said. "Please do not attempt to leave, or you will
    face immediate expulsion." McGonagall left, the portrait door clicking shut behind her. The trio walked back upstairs together.
    "This is stupid," Ron said, kicking the door of his bedroom. "We're always locked up here with nothing to do because of some
    reason or another."
    "You should be upset," Hermione scolded him. "What if it's an attack?" Ron glared at her.
    "You were just telling me it wasn't an attack!" he said defensively.
    "I said the NOISE wasn't part of the attack, it's a side effect of the sonorus spell," Hermione explained calmly.
    "Now what are we going to do?" Harry asked, trying to intervene in the fight. Ron shrugged.
    "Beats me," he muttered. "Definitely not homework, on a Friday."
    "I think I'm going to read," Hermione announced, standing up and heading towards her bedroom.
    "Read?! C'mon, Hermione, take a break!" Ron exclaimed. "It's the bloody weekend!"
    "I'm going to read for fun, thank you very much. Not Potions or anything like that," she sniffed. She walked back out of her
    room clutching a book titled _Selected Works from Shakespeare_.
    "Hey, isn't he a muggle?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. "Shakespeare, I mean. I had to read that when I was in muggle
    school."
    "Oh, no, of course not. Well, all the muggles think he is, but really he was a brilliant wizard." With that, she stuck her
    nose into the book and began to read.
    "Hey Harry, wanna play a game of chess?" Ron asked hopefully. Harry shrugged.
    "Sure, why not."
    *****************
    Two hours later, after several games of wizarding chess, Ron and Harry sat in the Heads' Common Room with looks of extreme
    boredom on their faces. Hermione was still reading her book. Harry had just finished writing a note to Rachel about how sorry
    he was that they couldn't go out for a butterbeer in Hogsmeade like they were supposed to have done.
    "Now what," Ron asked, swinging his feet off the edge of the sofa. Hermione closed her book with a sigh.
    "I'm even getting bored," she said softly.
    "We could go to Hogsmeade if we really wanted to," Harry commented, a glint of mischief in his eye.
    "Absolutely not!" Hermoine stated firmly. "We are NOT going, it's clearly dangerous, McGonagall said-"
    "Fine, fine," Ron answered, clearly annoyed. "What do you think we should do then, Hermione?"
    "Maybe we should discuss our plan," she said, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. Harry sighed.
    "I was thinking about that yesterday," he said. "I don't know what we're going to do..."
    "Plan for what?" Ron asked, looking up from playing with the chess pieces.
    "The plan for defeating Voldemort," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, Ron, sometimes I wonder about you..."
    "Anyway," Harry said quickly, trying to intervene again. "I found out some, er, interesting information a few days ago. You
    remember how Rachel fainted the day we came back?" Ron and Hermione were listening intently now; they both nodded. "Well,
    after I visited her I talked with Dumbledore and we went down to Snape's office and he was doing this test on her blood. I
    guess she had a lot of Veritaserum in her system... They think it was her father trying to get information out of her..."
    Harry looked downcast, but cleared his throat. "Anyways, I just thought you guys should know. So you can try to keep me from
    telling her any important information." He gave a half smile.
    "Harry, that's horrible," Hermione said softly. "I'm so sorry... she doesn't know about it?"
    "No," he replied firmly, shaking his head. "And she can't find out about it either. They don't know what would happen to her
    if her father found out."
    Hermione let out a small gasp. "Harry, I have an idea... Well, you really might not like it, but I think it would work just
    brilliantly..." He nodded.
    "Go on," he said slowly.
    "Well... when we DO plan out exactly what we're going to do, we are going to need some way to lure in Voldemort. What if you
    just told Rachel about the whole thing, and made it seem like we didn't want him there? Then, the next time she's home, she
    would leak the information to her father-"
    "Hermione," Ron exclaimed, looking sick. "We can't just USE her like that, without her even knowing..."
    "We have to!" she insisted. "There's no other way. What do you think, Harry?" Harry felt his stomach sink. It sounded like a
    logical plan, all right... but it would be like lying to his girlfriend. He closed his eyes and sighed.
    "I'll think about it."
    *****************
    The students were allowed out of their dormitories the next day. Dumbledore had announced at breakfast that there had been
    rumors of an attack on Hogsmeade, but that no such thing had actually happened. Dean and Ginny were arguing over whether the
    trip really should have been cancelled, but Harry's mind was on Rachel. Could he do that to her? Use her known weaknesses to
    try to create Voldemort's downfall? _All's fair in love and war_. The phrase rang through his mind again and again. This
    was about love AND war, intertwined in a way he didn't even want to think about. He pushed his eggs around listlessly with his
    fork, his eyes clouded over with concern. Finally, he made his decision. _I'll do it,_ he told himself.
    ******************
    Again - I know I'm getting terrible about time in between updates. School is stressful and hectic and super busy! I have finals
    next week, which probably means I'll still update, because all that time with nothing to do but study will be boring. Hope
    you're all enjoying the story!!
    Thanks to:
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	25. Chapter 25


    **Chapter 26: The Great Debate
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "No man should be put to death, even as an example,
    if he can be left to live without danger to society."
    - The Social Contract, Jean-Jacques Rousseau
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    Harry groaned and lay his head on the table as the students around him talked cheerfully as they munched on their breakfast.
    For Harry Potter, last night had been virtually sleepless and dawn had come too soon. He hadn't been able to stop thinking
    about Rachel and the decision he had made. Could he really use her to get Voldemort's attention? His thoughts were interrupted
    when someone wrapped their arms around him from behind.
    "Hey Harry," Rachel said in a sweet voice, standing over him and smiling. "How are you?" She ruffled his hair affectionately.
    Harry felt his chest burning with guilt.
    "I'm pretty good, how are you?" he asked, trying to sound normal. He found that he couldn't meet her eyes; instead, he focused
    on the brown owl that had fluttered down to their table to deliver newspapers.
    "I'm fine," she replied, taking a seat next to him at the Gryffindor table. Hermione, sitting just across from them, let out
    a sudden squeal.
    "Oh, how exciting! Look at this!" she exclaimed, holding up a copy of the Daily Prophet.
    "What is it?" Ron asked, craning his neck to see.
    "Next Debate for Minister of Magic Candidates to Take Place at Hogwart's", Hermione read aloud. "They're going to be here the
    week before the elections!"
    "Oh, that'll be really interesting!" Rachel gushed. Dean snorted.
    "Who cares about that stuff... politics is so boring," he said.
    "I agree," Parvati said with a smile as she dug through her backpack. "I mean, it doesn't really matter that much anyway."
    "Doesn't matter?" Hermione repeated, looking scandalized. "What do you mean? We're in the middle of a war! It makes all the
    difference! Especially since we can vote now, we could change the outcome of history!" Dean shrugged. Parvati had finally
    found her compact and was applying her makeup, completely oblivious to the conversation. Seamus, who had been staring at
    his plate, gave Hermione a half-smile.
    "Maybe having the debates here will make more students want to vote," he suggested. Hermione grinned.
    "I really hope so," she said.
    ********************
    Harry had spent the entire week studying in an attempt to put the Rachel situation out of his mind. For the most part, it had
    worked; he found he now knew every defense spell in the books that he owned, understood the healing potions that Snape had
    discussed in class, and could change any object into one of 32 different colors using the Color Changing Charm. In his spare
    time, he had read every book in the Restricted Section of the library that dealt with the Veil of Death. To his disappointment,
    he hadn't found much new information. The object seemed to be a mystery to everyone, including those who wrote about it.
    "Bloody hell, mate, you're turning into Hermione," Ron commented as he flopped down on the sofa beside Harry in the Heads'
    Common Room. "Stop reading, will ya?"
    "Ronald Weasley, I heard that!" said an angry voice from down the hallway. Hermione came strolling up to them, hands on her
    hips, followed by a giggling Ginny.
    "Sorry," Ron muttered, his ears turning bright red.
    "He's just trying to study for his N.E.W.T.s, for Merlin's sake, and you have to go an harass him!"
    "Harry, are you feeling all right?" Ginny asked quietly. Harry nodded.
    "Yeah... I've just been a little out of sorts these past few days-"
    "Having problems with Rachel?" Ginny asked swiftly. _Damn, why do girls always have to be so bloody perceptive?!_ Harry
    wondered.
    "Er..." he began, but Hermione held her hand up.
    "Let's just have this whole conversation right now," she said. Ron looked up in surprise.
    "With Ginny here?" he asked. Hermione put her hands back on her hips and Ron backed off a little.
    "Of course, she's going to be part of it eventually, why not now?" Hermione asked. Without waiting for an answer, she turned
    to Harry. "Give us the basic information about the veil, so we can decide what we want to do."
    "Well...." Harry took a deep breath. "The Veil of Death was created in 250 B.C. or before and finally outlawed in 1720. It's
    been in the Department of Mysteries for the past fifty years. No one has ever returned after entering the veil from the North
    side, though there is no proof that it actually causes death. There was an Egyptian pharaoh who had tried to make himself
    immortal, but when he got tricked into going into the veil, he couldn't get back out. I think that's a good sign that it will
    work for Voldemort," Harry finished after rattling off the facts. Hermione nodded.
    "So from what you've read, you're fairly sure it will work?" she asked.
    "Menkaure, that Egyptian king, was a dark wizard and he hasn't been able to return. It should work, if we can get Voldemort
    to show up," Harry said.
    "And that's where Rachel comes in?" Ron asked, looking unsure of himself.
    "Exactly," Hermione said.
    "Wait - I'm confused," Ginny interrupted. "So you're trying to kill Voldemort by making him go through the veil in the Department
    of Mysteries? Why? And what does that have to do with Rachel?"
    "Ginny, you can't tell anyone this," Ron said seriously. She nodded.
    "There was a prophecy when I was born that said I would be the only one who could kill Voldemort. This just seems like the
    only way - I can't kill him with my wand. When I dueled with him before, it didn't work because the cores of our wands are
    made of feathers from the same phoenix. Rachel's family is full of Death Eaters, and over winter break they gave her Veritaserum
    to make her give out information about what was going on at Hogwart's and probably about me. She doesn't know about this, the
    only reason I know is because I saw the test results that Snape did to see if she had any chemicals in her bloodstream. So
    basically, what we're going to do is leak information to Rachel, who will hopefully tell it to her father under the effects
    of Veritaserum, who will pass it on to Voldemort..." Harry trailed off.
    "Is that really going to work? It seems very complicated," Ginny said skeptically.
    "We don't have a lot of options," Hermione sighed. "If it doesn't work, we'll come up with something else." She turned to
    Harry. "What day is that on again?"
    "April 27," he said immediately. Hermione shook her head.
    "We still have a lot of organizing to do. I think we should have a group of about eight people together when we go, just for
    back up. We only have three months to do this." She sank down onto the sofa. "What we really need is a reason that Rachel would
    believe for why Harry needs to be in the Department of Mysteries..."
    "I thought that was obvious," Ron said quietly. Harry looked up in surprise. "Just tell her you think you figured out a way
    to get Sirius back."
    *****************
    The candidates' debate came quickly, and the student body seemed eager for the evening to come. There had been a feast planned,
    to be followed by a short speech by each of the three men, and finally the debate. Harry was looking forward to the event,
    even though for him it only meant a break from worrying about the plan to defeat Voldemort and he and Rachel's relationship.
    When Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the Great Hall that night, they were surprised to see that the four tables had been
    placed end to end to form one giant table that stretched the length of the hall. To Harry's dismay, Rachel came immediately
    and sat next to him; he noticed that there was a lot of mixing between the different houses, except for the Slytherins, who
    remained stubbornly in a bunch at the far end of the table. After all the students had been seated, Dumbledore stood up.
    "Welcome, one and all, to this magnificent event," he said. "Thanks especially to the members of the wizarding community who
    chose to come." Dumbledore gestured towards the back of the room, and Harry was startled to see witches and wizards sitting
    in chairs behind them. There were several photographers taking pictures and purple smoke floating above the cameras with each
    click. An alert-looking Rita Skeeter was seated in the front row, her tangerine-colored robes standing out against everyone
    else's.
    The feast began, and after a delicious meal, Dumbledore stood once again. "Now that we are fed, I cannot wait to hear what these
    three men have to say. I would also like to point out the arrangement in which the tables have been placed. I have noticed
    that many students have chosen to sit by others from different houses." Dumbledore winked at Harry and Rachel. "This is exactly
    the point. Hogwart's should not be divided; so tonight, we have dined together as a group, as a symbol of our solidarity." He
    paused, clearing his throat. "With that in mind, let us begin. Each candidate will now give a short speech. The first will
    be current Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge." The audience applauded politely, and the stout man climbed the steps to reach
    the podium where Professor Dumbledore had previously stood.
    "I am so glad to see such an audience here tonight," Fudge began. "As you know, I'm the Minister right now. I have done everything
    I could to ensure that You-Know-Who will not be a threat to families in our community. I have been working with every department
    in the Ministry to make this a reality. I plan to strengthen Auror's rights so that they will be able to more accurately
    apprehend Death Eaters. Once I'm through, Mister-You-Know-Who-I'm-Talking-About-"
    "What a bumbling idiot," Ron muttered.
    "-will be gone. I have the safety of wizards in mind! I will protect you. Have faith in me." He gave a slight nod and climbed
    down from the podium. An all-too-familiar man with shining blond hair and a bleached white smile pranced across the floor
    next.
    "Hello everyone!" he called out, smiling winningly. "I am Gilderoy Lockhard, Order of Merlin 3rd class, Honorary Member of
    the Dark Force Defense Leage, and-"
    "Five time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award," Harry, Ron, and Hermione whispered together, trying not to
    giggle.
    "-Five time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award," he finished. Ginny let out a strangled noise and put her
    face, now blushing bright red, on the table to avoid laughing. Her shoulders were shaking hard. "I have extensive training
    in this kind of thing, and let me tell you, I am the candidate to vote for! I'm great with public relations," he smiled again,
    "wonderful at defense, and my top priority would be ridding the world of You-Know-Who! If I were in charge, this wouldn't have
    gotten so out of control. I know what I'm doing, and ridding the world of evil is a lot easier than our current Minister has
    made it look. I hope to get a chance to expand upon my policies during the debate." With another smile, he stepped away from
    the podium. Next, a dark-haired man who looked to be in his late 20s approached the audience.
    "Hello, and thank you for coming tonight," he began quietly. "A turnout like this shows that the wizarding community is indeed
    concerned with their safety and well-being. My name is Bronson Barnett, and I am an Auror. From my perspective, giving Aurors
    more rights to apprehend Death Eaters won't solve the problem. The real solution lies in educating the people about what is
    going on and making sure that everything is out in the open. Voldemort won't be defeated any other way." There was a loud
    gasp as he said the Dark Lord's name. With a small smile and a wave, he too descended from the raised podium.
    "Thank you to Minister Fudge, Mr. Lockhard, and Mr. Barnett. For the next stage of this event I will ask you to come forward."
    With his wand, Dumbledore summoned three identical podiums, each surrounding the main one in the center. The three candidates
    stood behind each of them. "I will be moderating the debate. The rules are as follows: I will ask a question, and each of you
    will have two minutes to answer. Are there any questions?" No one said anything. Rita Skeeter's quill was moving at a million
    miles an hour. "Very well. On to the first question." Dumbledore paused. "Explain what you believe can be done to improve the
    economy."
    "Boooring!" mumbled Parvati, rolling her eyes. Hermione glared at her. Secretly, Harry agreed; he found himself not even paying
    attention as the candidates discussed the question. His eyes focused on Rachel's hand, resting peacefully on the table. He took
    it in his own, but still couldn't force himself to look her in the eye. She nudged him.
    "Harry, are you all right?" she asked innocently. He nodded.
    "I'm fine, just tired," he replied.
    "Stop talking!" Hermione hissed.
    "-question number two is as follows: explain your stance on so-called 'dark' creatures, such as werewolves, vampires, and
    giants." The students, who had been chatting quietly during the question about the economy, all snapped to attention. Lockhart
    was first.
    "Well, of course, they're all bad. I've been able to cure lots of them, myself-"
    "How do you _cure_ a giant?!" Ron sniggered.
    "-but in the end, I think that they should be locked up. No use in the bunch of them running around and mucking things up
    for us normal people."
    "Thank you, Mr. Lockhart. Minister, you are next." Fudge nodded, adjusting his bowler hat and looking uncomfortable.
    "Well, er, dark creatures... um, the system we've got now is actually quite good. We register werewolves, for example, make
    sure we know where they are at all times, that they aren't allowed into areas that are heavily populated with families.
    I've been thinking about intensifying this system and possibly adding a requirement where werewolves, in their human forms,
    would be required to wear robes with a special marking, say for instance a 'W' on the front, that would be visible at all times."
    "Mr. Barnett, what is your response to this question?"
    "Well, first I would like to say that I'm appalled at the closed-mindedness of my fellow candidates. Identifying which beings
    are dark creatures isn't the solution. Instead of making werewolves visible to the public, we should be concentrating our
    efforts in distributing Wolfsbane Potion to make sure that no new bites occur. We should have our potions experts researching
    a cure for this disease, instead of alienating those who are infected."
    "He's got a point," whispered Seamus. "I like this guy. He seems normal."
    ***************
    The debate carried on for nearly an hour, with Barnett answering every question better than Lockhart or Fudge - at least in
    Harry's opinion. After it was over, Harry, Ron, and Hermione managed to push through the crowd to get out of the doors.
    "Harry!" Harry turned to see Remus Lupin waving.
    "Oh, hi! I didn't see you in there," Harry said, shaking his hand.
    "Interesting, wasn't it?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms.
    "Oh, most definitely, Hermione. Most definitely," Remus answered.
    "So you think Barnett has it won?" Ron asked. Remus frowned.
    "No, not really... though I wish he had. He's so young, though he has experience, I'm afraid the voters might hold that against
    him... But, we'll just have to wait and see. The elections are only in a week." He turned to Ron and Hermione. "Could I have
    a word alone with Harry?"
    "Oh, of course," Hermione replied, pulling Ron along with her up the stairs. "I'll see you upstairs, Harry!" Harry followed
    Remus over towards the door.
    "So, have you used the motorbike yet?" Remus asked, grinning. Harry laughed.
    "Is that what you had to talk to me about?" he teased. Remus nodded. "No, I haven't had a chance to. Too much studying."
    "Well, let's go out there right now and start it up. It wouldn't hurt to let it run once in a while, especially when it's
    this cold out." The pair walked out the door and across the chilly lawn towards the shed behind Hagrid's cabin. Remus magically
    opened the door and muttered "lumos". A dull light filled the shed. "Well, start it up, what are you waiting for?" he asked,
    a smile crossing his face. Harry turned the key and jumped in surprise as the motorbike started. Remus laughed. "Well, get on!"
    he said encouragingly.
    "I, well, I don't really know how to ride one of these..." Harry admitted.
    "Oh, it's simple. Here's the accelerator, this is the brake, and you shift like this..." After a few minutes of explanation,
    Harry was able to drive in a circle around the small shed. "See, you're getting the hang of it!" Remus said, grinning.
    "This is amazing!" Harry yelled, slowing down. "Now how do I make it fly?" Remus shook his head.
    "I think I'd practice driving on the ground a little more, if I were you," he told him. "Let's put it back now, you've got
    the basics down, and I'm freezing." Harry drove the motorbike back into the shed and turned it off.
    "Thank you Remus," he said quietly. Remus' expression changed to one of compassion.
    "You're very welcome, Harry. Any time," he replied. "I think that studying is wonderful, but if you do it for too long and
    forget to have any fun, you're missing out on life. Your father and Sirius taught me that lesson," he said with a smile.
    Harry had a sudden idea.
    "Er, Remus... Can I show you something?" he asked. _Ron and Hermione didn't really understand, but Remus will,_ Harry
    thought to himself. Remus nodded.
    "Of course, Harry. What is it?" Harry took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and transformed into a wolf. A few seconds later,
    he changed back into his human form, worried about what Remus would say. He was shocked to see him with tears in his eyes.
    "Oh Harry... that's wonderful. Simply amazing," he said. "It's like each of us combined."
    "What do you mean?" Harry asked.
    "A wolf... well, you've got the canine spirit of Padfoot, the majesty of Prongs, and the appearance of Moony." Remus smiled,
    still fighting back tears. "I'm so proud of you, Harry." Harry smiled and found himself with tears in his eyes as well. He
    realized he had never before had someone tell him that they were proud of him.
    *********************
    Okay readers... how's my plot doing? I'm trying desperately to wrap this story up, but it has a mind of its own. I updated in
    THREE DAYS! Can you believe that?! I think it's a new record.
    Thanks to:
    hpff.com:
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	26. Chapter 26


    **Chapter 27: Results and Romance
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "The government solution to a problem is usually as bad as the problem."
    -Milton Friedman
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    Exactly one week later, the day of the elections for the next Minister of Magic had come. All of the seventh-years, the only
    students at Hogwarts old enough to vote, were allowed to leave the school during their lunch hour to visit the polling place
    in Hogsmeade. Though it hadn't snowed in quite some time, it was still chilly outside and everyone was bundled up with hats
    and scarves for the short walk.
    "Isn't this exciting?" Hermione asked as she, Harry, and Ron followed a group of students out the front doors of the school.
    "Voting is so important! It's our duty as citizens, and it's our way of ensuring that the governing system never gets too
    powerful-"
    "Yeah, yeah," Ron muttered, rolling his eyes.
    "Let's hope Fudge doesn't get reelected, or it will be too powerful," Harry said quickly, distracting Hermione from Ron's
    sarcastic comment. She nodded solemnly.
    "Yes... let's hope people realize what he's doing," she said quietly. Harry heard someone call his name and turned to see
    Neville Longbottom hurrying towards him.
    "Hey guys," he said as he caught up. "Going to vote?"
    "Yeah," Harry answered, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. "Are you?"
    "Oh, yes," Neville said, nodding vigorously. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. We need to get Fudge out of office, otherwise
    we're in big trouble."
    "I'll take it you're voting for Barnett then?" Ron asked, grinning. "Or are you thinking maybe Lockhart would be a better
    choice?" The group laughed.
    "Actually, I heard some girls talking about voting for Lockhart. They thought he was, er... attractive," Neville said, his
    ears turning bright pink.
    "Disgusting," Ron muttered, kicking a rock on the ground.
    "That's just stupid," Hermione huffed. "He would be worse than Fudge, and that's definitely saying something!" The group had
    finally made their way up to The Three Broomsticks, which had been temporarily converted into a polling place.
    "Wow," Ron said in a low voice as they entered. A row of booths with rich purple curtains filled one wall of the pub and most
    of the tables had been pushed to the other side. Witches and wizards were voting and then heading over to get a drink. Madame
    Rosmerta was rushing around to fill all of the orders.
    "This is the busiest we've been in a long time," Harry heard her comment happily. A frazzled-looking older wizard approached
    the group.
    "You lot here to vote?" he wheezed. They nodded. "All right then, here's what you're going to do. Each of you will go into
    a separate booth. You just point your wand at the candidate you want to vote for and say their name. A red check should appear
    by the candidate you have chosen. After you're done, put your ballot in the box over there," he said, gesturing towards an
    enormous container at the end of the row of booths. "And no cheatin' the system - if you've already voted or if you're
    underage, you'll get thrown out of the booth. Quite embarrassin', so I would stop now if that's the case." He paused. "Any
    questions?" No one said anything, so the man ushured each of them into a booth.
    Harry closed the purple curtain behind him and picked up one of the ballots. Pointing his wand at it, he said clearly, "Bronson
    Barnett". A huge red tick appeared next to the name. _That was easy,_ he thought. He exited the booth and headed towards
    the ballot box, but was nearly thrown to the ground as the occupant of the next booth over came flying out unexpectedly.
    "What did I tell ya, Mr. Malfoy?" asked the elderly wizard in charge, looking frustrated. "No voting twice! Now get out of here."
    Draco Malfoy, his face flushed and his normally tame hair sticking up all over, scrambled to his feet and strode angrily out
    the door. Harry dropped his ballot into the box with a laugh. He joined up with Ron and Hermione again and they left the
    building.
    "That was priceless," Ron said, his eyes shining with tears of laughter. "Seeing Malfoy get thrown out of the booth on his bum...
    now that's a sight I'll never forget!"
    "Memorable, but not as good as the ferret incident," Hermione said laughing. Harry grinned.
    "I think I'm going to go, er, pick up something in Hogsmeade... are you two going to go back?" Ron asked, finally overcoming his
    laughter.
    "I have to study," Hermione said immediately. "You know we have that Herbology practical exam tomorrow." Ron nodded absently.
    "Right... Well, Harry you want to come?" he asked. Harry shrugged.
    "Sure, why not."
    "How about you, Neville?" Ron asked.
    "I'll come," he said quietly.
    "Okay, then we'll catch you later, Hermione!" Ron said, waving to her as the group split. Ron led the way down the cobbled path
    that wound itself through the middle of the town.
    "So what exactly do you have to pick up?" Harry asked curiously. Ron frowned.
    "Well, it's nearly February... I was thinking a Valentine's Day present wouldn't be a bad idea. I don't know when we're going
    to get a chance to come back out here, since they've been having all those problems with attacks." Harry nodded in agreement.
    "That's a great idea, Ron." Harry turned to Neville. "Sorry if you feel left out, Nev," he said regretfully, feeling bad that
    their mate didn't have anyone to buy a Valentine's gift for. Neville smiled, his ears turning red, as he stared at the ground.
    "Actually, I was thinking of asking someone out... Might be a good idea for me too," he mumbled quietly.
    "Who is it?" Ron asked. Neville just shrugged and continued to stare downwards.
    "This looks interesting," Harry commented, looking into a store window featuring models wearing flashy jewelry. Ron shook his
    head.
    "Nah, jewelry, that's the easy way out... That's what I got Hermione for Christmas, too. I have to think of something creative."
    Harry chuckled.
    "Good luck with that, mate."
    ******************************
    At breakfast the next morning, Hermione's eyes were focused on the windows at all times. Finally, Ron asked her what was wrong.
    "I'm waiting for The Daily Prophet so I will know who won the election!" she said huffily. "Honestly Ron, don't you want to
    know what the outcome was?" He shrugged.
    "I guess I kinda forgot about it," he admitted. Hermione rolled her eyes.
    "You have the shortest attention span in the world, Ronald Weasley-" She was interrupted by the flapping noise that the owls
    made as they entered the room. A gray bird swooped down to Hermione's seat.
    "Who won?" Harry asked anxiously, peering across the table. Hermione hurriedly threw some money at the bird before snatching
    up the paper.
    "Noooo," Hermione moaned, covering her eyes.
    "Is it Fudge?" Ron asked, grimacing. Hermione shook her head and held up the newspaper. _**Lockhart elected new Minister**_,
    the headline read. Harry pulled the paper away from Hermione, feeling as though he was in shock. He stared at the photo of
    Lockhart on the front page, waving and flashing a shiny smile. _Gilderoy Lockhart beat Cornelius Fudge and Bronson Barnett
    in the race for Minister of Magic yesterday,_ the article read. _Lockhart will be formerly sworn in as Minister in exactly four weeks-_
    "How could this happen?" Ron asked incredulously. "How?
    ****************************
    The Herbology exam didn't go so well for Harry. He spent the next hour - Charms - doodling on some spare parchment. He couldn't
    believe that the election had turned out that way, but he tried to put it out of his mind. Instead, he focused on the upcoming
    weekend - which happened to be the 14th of February.
    He, Ron, and Neville had all found presents for their respective female companions for Valentine's Day, but for some reason
    it didn't feel like enough. He constantly felt guilty about what he was planning on doing to Rachel, and had to think of some
    way to make it up to her. He sighed to himself. _I wish I was one of those romantic guys, then I wouldn't have problems with
    things like this._ He continued to scribble on the paper and an idea began to form in his mind. The Valentine's Day feast
    in the Great Hall was always nice, but it was crowded and just like any other meal. _What if we had our own feast?_ he
    wondered.
    *****************************
    "I think it's about time we had that meeting," Hermione said suddenly as the trio sat in the library studying. Harry sighed;
    he had been putting this off as long as possible.
    "Let's make a list of people to invite," he said unenthusiastically.
    "How many do we need?" Ron asked, glancing to make sure that Madam Pince hadn't noticed their whispered conversation yet.
    "I'm thinking at least ten, maybe more," Hermione answered. "I'll write them down... Okay, so we've got Harry, me, and Ron,
    that's three..."
    "Ginny, Neville, Dean, Seamus," Ron said, holding up fingers. "That's seven."
    "What about Luna?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded.
    "I think we should have her. That's eight. Do we need more?"
    "Might as well ask Parvati and Lavendar," Harry said. "And maybe Padma Patil too, she seems pretty smart."
    "Let's have the meeting tonight," Hermione said firmly.
    "Tonight?!" Ron and Harry exclaimed together.
    "Yes. Room of Requirements at 7 p.m. Now Ron, you let these people know-" She tore off a third of the list. "-Harry, these
    are yours, and I'll tell these ones. Sound good?" Harry nodded mutely.
    At 7:00 that night, the group assembled in the Room of Requirements, which was perfectly suited to the meeting with several
    rows of chairs and a podium at the front of the room. Hermione stood at the podium and motioned for Harry to join her as
    their fellow students slowly filtered into the room. After they were seated and had become quiet, Hermione began to talk.
    "Thank you all for coming," she began. "You have been invited here to participate in something that will be direct combat
    against Dark forces. It will be very dangerous, and it will most likely be in violation of the Ministry's laws and expectations
    of us. If you are not comfortable with this, please leave now." She paused, but no one moved. The group looked at her with
    determined expressions on their faces.
    "After the results of that election, I don't care if we listen to the Ministry or not," Padma said quietly. Hermione nodded.
    "My thoughts exactly. So, here's the plan. Well, Harry is... he's..."
    "I can explain it, Hermione," Harry said, stepping up onto the podium. "You see, before I was born, there was a prophecy..."
    Harry explained the entire story. "What we are trying to do is make it come true. A series of other prophecies-" He glanced
    fleetingly at Hermione "-have led us to believe that now is the best time to strike. We are going to lure Voldemort into the
    Department of Mysteries, into a certain room which contains a device known as the Veil of Death, and make sure that he enters
    this Veil. After this is complete, he will be dead and the prophecies will be complete." He noticed several members of the
    audience looking very pale. Dean raised his hand.
    "How exactly do you plan on getting him to show up there?" he asked.
    "A very good question, and we've already got it completely covered," Hermione answered. "We can discuss that later; it's too
    risky right now."
    _Well, that's it,_ Harry thought to himself miserably. _Now Rachel is officially part of the plan._ He glanced around
    the room, trying to think of something - anything - to get his mind off of the situation. Suddenly, something in his brain
    clicked. _The perfect idea for Valentine's Day..._
    **********************
    A few days later, a nervous-looking Ron walked into his and Harry's bedroom. Harry was trying desperately to get his hair to
    lie flat, but - as usual - it wasn't working in the least. He sighed and noticed that Ron had come in.
    "How's everything look?" he asked eagerly. Ron nodded, looking thoughtful.
    "I'd say it's pretty good. I just hope they like it," he said, shaking his head.
    "They better," Harry said heavily. "We've been working on it forever." They heard a knock on the door and opened it to see
    Neville Longbottom standing outside. He looked extremely nervous and unlike his normal self in his navy blue dress robes.
    "Hey Neville, you never did tell us who this mystery girl is," Ron said smiling as he adjusted his tie in the mirror. Neville
    gulped.
    "Er... well... itsyoursister," he mumbled, blushing.
    "What?" Harry asked. "Say it a little bit slower this time."
    "It's Ginny," he said quietly.
    "Really?" Ron asked, looking surprised. "I thought she was still with Dean."
    "They broke up three weeks ago," Neville squeaked in an embarrassed voice.
    "It's nearly time," Harry said, clapping Ron on the back. "Are we ready?" The group made their way outside, where they found
    Hermione and Ginny waiting in the Heads' Common Room. Hermione was dressed in a beautiful red muggle dress, and Ginny was
    wearing maroon-colored dress robes. "Let's go downstairs and get Rachel," Harry suggested. Rachel was standing just outside
    the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room, her pink robes fitting her perfectly. The group walked through the hallways, following
    Ron's lead.
    "So where exactly are we going?" Hermione asked. "We had better not be leaving school grounds, or we'll all be in trouble-"
    "We're not, Mione, stop worrying," Ron said as he rolled his eyes. "Here we are." He stopped in front of the entrance to the
    Room of Requirements and walked back and forth in front of the door three times. The handle turned a gold color and the door
    itself became a dark mahogany. "Ready?" he asked, smiling. He opened the door and escorted Hermione inside.
    "Oh wow... this is gorgeous," Hermione said breathlessly.
    "It's beautiful," Ginny agreed, glancing around the room.
    "Did you three do all of this?" Rachel asked. Harry nodded, smiling.
    "You like it?" he asked.
    "Of course!" Rachel squealed, wrapping her arms around Harry. "Wow, this is just... amazing!" There were three tables, each
    surrounded by a red velvet curtain for privacy, a glowing candle on each table, and three roaring fireplaces. The room was
    decorated all in red and white, from the chairs and tablecloths down to the carpeting.
    "This one's ours," Ron said, taking Hermione by the hand and leading her towards the table at the end of the room. Harry and
    Rachel sat at the one in the middle.
    "I can't believe you did this," Rachel said, still smiling, as they sat down. She jumped a little bit when she heard a popping
    noise beside her and giggled as she saw Dobby appear.
    "Hello Miss Rachel, Mr. Harry," Dobby squeaked. "I is your waiter tonight. What is you wanting for your dinner?"
    "Oh.. er... what are our choices?" Rachel asked, feeling overwhelmed.
    "Whatever you is wanting, Miss," Dobby said, bowing deeply. Rachel paused for a moment.
    "Coconut shrimp," she said decisively. Harry smiled.
    "I'll take steak and kidney pie," he announced. Dobby nodded and disappeared with another pop.
    "Wow, what service!" Rachel said jokingly. Harry could hear Ron laughing loudly over something so he mumbled a silencing spell
    in the curtain's direction. Rachel reached across the table and took Harry's hand in her own.
    "I know this year has been tough, and I just want to say thank you for sticking by me," she said quietly. "You're wonderful,
    Harry Potter." Over the flickering candle, Harry smiled back at her even though his stomach was squirming with guilt.
    "So're you," he said simply. Dobby reappeared with another pop.
    "Here is your wine, Mister and Miss," he said with another bow. "Your food will be ready soon." He disappeared again.
    "Wow, wine... this is a fancy dinner!" Rachel said with a giggle. Harry popped the cork after several tries and it nearly
    shot across the room.
    "Oops," he muttered, blushing. Rachel laughed. The food came and they were silent for a few minutes as they began to eat.
    They eventually began to chat about the results of the election.
    "It's really quite sad... He's not going to be able to do anything," Rachel said with a sigh.
    "Yeah I know," Harry replied, taking a bite. "But nothing we can do about it now." She looked up at him.
    "Harry, can I ask you a question?" Rachel said seriously. He nodded. "Well, I've been thinking about your prophecy... I mean,
    do you know what's going to happen? Or are you just going to wait until the next time You-Know-Who shows up?"
    "There's no other way," Harry lied. "I'm just going to have to wait and see what happens." Rachel nodded, focusing her attention
    on her plate.
    "Rach... there's something I'm going to do, and it's kind of dangerous, and I want you to know about it," Harry began, feeling
    his heart begin to beat faster. He could feel the perspiration on his forehead. _You can't lie to her, she loves you,_ said a
    voice in his head. _You have to lie to her - it's the only way,_ said a second voice. "I've been researching the Veil of Death...
    you know, the thing that Sirius Black, my godfather, fell through. Well, when someone falls through it, it doesn't guarantee
    that they're dead. I think I may have figured out a way to get him back-"
    "Oh Harry," Rachel said with a look of sympathy mixed with sadness on her face. "Sweetheart, he's gone, please just give up-"
    "No," Harry answered, swallowing. "You see... I have to do this. I have to try."
    "When are you doing this?" she asked in a hushed voice.
    "On April 27. I'm going at midnight," he replied, feeling the horrible guilt again. Rachel nodded sadly.
    "Please be careful, Harry. I understand and I know how much this means to you, but please be careful."
    ***********************
    Okay, so that was a LONG and important chapter. Hope everyone's still enjoying the story! I'm so excited about all of my new
    readers. Thanks guys!!!
    I still will take people for my update list if you would like to be added; just e-mail me at Adela2785@yahoo.com or tell me
    your e-mail address in a review. I'm still trying to finish this story before about May 5, but it's going to be quite a challenge.
    Like I said before, after that you will all have to wait until June for an update because I will be without access to a computer =(
    Thank you's:
    hpff.com
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	27. Chapter 27


    **Chapter 28: Spring Awakening
    ~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    "An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a
    wild beast; a wild beast may wound your body, but an evil
    friend will wound your mind."
    -Buddha
    **~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@~+@**
    The cold, bitter days of February melted into the wind and later rain of March. All that Harry could think about was that
    March was the month directly before April, when he would have his first real chance of killing Voldemort. As most students
    at Hogwart's had realized, the April showers were going to be bringing N.E.W.T. tests as well as May flowers, and the library
    had become the most visited place on the school grounds. This had no effect for most of the students, who had earlier in the
    year spent a majority of their time in their dormitories, but it made Hermione exceedingly grumpy.
    "I cannot stand it in here anymore," she growled one evening, glaring over at a group of giggling girls. Lavendar Brown and
    Parvati Patil were whispering loudly to two Hufflepuff seventh years. Harry recognized them as Hannah Abbot and Megan Jones;
    he also noticed that the girls' textbooks lay unopened at their feet while they talked - clearly, no studying was being
    accomplished.
    "I'm leaving!" Hermione announced, shoving her belongings into her bag. Ron reached up to touch her arm.
    "Please stay for a little while longer?" he asked. "I don't understand this potion very well, could you explain it to me again?"
    "I am sick and tired of doing your homework for you, Ron!" Hermione hissed. "I'm going back to my room." With that, she spun
    on her heel and strode angrily out of the library, passing a surprised-looking Ginny. Ron leaned back in his chair and groaned.
    "Don't worry mate, she's just in a bad mood because there's so many people in here," Harry said consolingly. Ron grumbled to
    himself, closing his eyes.
    "I know she is. But does she have to always take it out on me?" he asked.
    "Maybe you should go apologize," Ginny said, taking a seat at the table. "Wow, it's packed in here! I guess it's all you seventh
    years, huh?" She cracked a smile.
    "I am not apologizing because I didn't do anything wrong!" Ron said angrily. "All I did was ask her a question and she goes
    and-"
    "GET OUT OF HERE!" Harry turned to see Madam Pince shaking her fist at Ron. "There are people studying, you know!" she chastised
    in a loud whisper. "All of you, leave at once!" Harry, Ron, and Ginny hurriedly picked up their things and left, all the while
    under the watchful glare of the angry librarian.
    "Well, where are we going now?" Ginny asked, shooting a pointed look at Ron, who merely shrugged.
    "I guess we'll go back up to the dormitories," Harry answered.
    "Oh, that's just lovely," Ron mumbled.
    "Well it is your fault we got thrown out of the library, Ron-" Ginny started. Much to the annoyance of Harry, the siblings
    argued all the way back to Gryffindor tower. When they got there, Harry was surprised to see that Hermione had not gone up
    to her room; instead, she was in the main Common Room reading something on the bulletin board.
    "Whatcha looking at?" he asked her quietly. She pointed to a bright yellow sign in the center of the board. _"ATTENTION SEVENTH
    YEARS"_, it read. _"All students in their seventh year of instruction at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are required
    to have a meeting with their head of house concerning their plans for after graduation. Please sign up for a time slot below. Sincerely,
    Minerva McGonagall."_ Hermione pulled a quill out of her bag and scratched her name onto one of the lines.
    "Can I borrow that?" Harry asked. Hermione handed it to him, and he signed up as well.
    "So what do you want to do after school, Hermione?" Harry asked. She sighed.
    "Actually... well, I haven't really decided," she confessed. "There's just so many things I could do... I don't want to just
    choose one, you know? It's so difficult." Harry nodded thoughtfully. "What about you?" she asked him suddenly. "Do you still
    want to be an Auror?"
    "Yes," Harry replied, surprised that he felt so strongly about it. "If I don't get the N.E.W.T.s that I need, I don't know what
    I'm going to do..."
    "I'm sure you'll do fine," Hermine replied with a wave of her hand. "You managed to get all of the O.W.L.s you needed; just
    study harder and you should make it." _Study harder,_ Harry thought with an amused smile on his face. _The most original advice
    from Hermione ever..._
    *********************
    Spring vacation had arrived, and though the students had a week off, Harry, Ron, and Hermione chose to stay at Hogwart's as they
    usually did. Harry noticed that most of the seventh years had stayed, as it was easier to study for N.E.W.T.s. Rachel, on the
    other hand, had gone home - hopefully to tell her father exactly what Harry planned to do. _Please don't let anything go wrong,_
    he thought silently to himself one evening as he stared out the window in the Heads' Common Room. _And please don't let her hate
    me when this is all over..._ As he looked out the window, Harry noticed two figures making their way back from the greenhouses;
    the male had flaming red hair and the female was a bushy-haired brunette. He watched as Ron, struggling to get through the
    muddy path, stumbled and fell into the fresh March mud. Hermione stood a few feet away from him, as if refusing to help him
    stand up again. Harry grinned as Ron threw a fistful of the gooey substance at his girlfriend; he laughed out loud as Hermione
    retaliated with some mud-slinging of her own. Harry smiled; the scene had lifted his spirits. _Seeing the Head Girl cover your
    best mate with mud will make you laugh any day,_ he thought.
    *******************
    The school's vacation ended and Harry found himself once again absorbed by his studies. One of his first obstacles after the
    break was his meeting with Professor McGonagall. He was nearly certain that it would go better than it had during his fifth
    year, when Professor Umbridge had been present. Clearing his mind of the thought, he knocked at McGonagall's office door and
    was told to enter.
    "Oh, Mr. Potter, come in," she said, sweeping some stray papers off her desk. He took a seat and faced his professor. She pulled
    a stack of parchment out of a folder in front of her. "Hmmm... this looks fantastic. You've been doing O-level work in Defense
    Against the Dark Arts, that's certainly impressive..." She flipped through the pages. "Same for Herbology and Charms... as well
    as Transfiguration, of course... Your Potions grade has gone up as well," she commented, placing the parchment back inside the
    folder. "However, it could be a bit higher, so continue to work on that." Professor McGonagall paused. "I assume that you are
    still planning on becoming an Auror?" she asked.
    "Yes," Harry said simply.
    "Well then, you have a few options. You may go the traditional path and take the program at the Ministry of Magic," she explained,
    laying out a brochure. "You also would be able to go to the Universal Institute for Magic if you so desire. They have an Auror
    program there, though you would still need to qualify for the Ministry's standards to be able to take a job with them. Do you
    have a preference?"
    "Well... I'm not quite sure..." Harry began. "Actually, I think I would rather just have my training at the Ministry." Professor
    McGonagall nodded.
    "Then you'll need to fill this out. It's the application for the Auror program." She pulled out a thick stack of papers.
    "It needs to be in by the time you get your N.E.W.T. results, which should be about mid-May. Be sure that it is completed
    BEFORE then." Harry nodded. "Do you have any other questions?"
    "Nothing right now," he replied. Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and nodded.
    "Very well then. You may go. I know that the application will be a long and tedious process, so if you need any help, don't
    hesitate to ask me," she added. Harry nodded.
    "Thank you," he said, standing.
    ***************
    "I'm so sick of seeing pictures of this man!" Hermione cried the next morning at breakfast, flinging down her copy of the Daily
    Prophet. Harry and Ron peered across the table at it and saw a grinning Gilderoy Lockhart on the front page.
    "Ugh," Ron mumbled, covering his eyes. "Get that thing out of here."
    "It's just disgusting. He hasn't done a thing yet, and he's been in office for nearly a month!" Hermione said, frowning at the
    picture. "It seems like all he's done so far is had photo after photo taken of himself!" Harry nodded glumly. "Don't you think
    we should do something about this?" she asked Ron and Harry insistently. Ron shrugged.
    "What can we do?" he asked. "He's already won the election."
    "He can be taken out of office, according to Chapter 4 of the Wizarding Code of Law. He just has to be voted out by 2/3 of the
    Wizengamot, and then-"
    "Okay, so he can get kicked out. But still, how are we going to do that?" Ron asked, sounding frustrated. Hermione glared at
    him.
    "Well, you and Harry were the ones he confessed to! He told you he was a fraud, remember? And nothing about him trying to hex
    you and Ron was ever printed in the Prophet, they were too busy bashing Barnett because of his age! I think it's time we exposed
    him for the phony that he is."
    "Well, how are we supposed to do that? Tell Rita Skeeter?" Harry asked sarcastically. Hermione smiled smugly.
    "Exactly."
    **************
    "Can you believe that it's April already?" Rachel asked, flipping through her pocket-sized calendar. "It seems like there was
    just snow on the ground yesterday!" Harry nodded in agreement. He had decided to take a few hours off from studying and had
    gone outside with Rachel to enjoy a beautiful spring day. Rachel stood up and stretched.
    "Let's go for a walk around the lake," she suggested. Harry stood as well, and heard Rachel's sudden gasp. She swayed on her
    feet, nearly collapsing onto the ground.
    "Rach, are you okay?" Harry asked, the concern evident in his emerald eyes. He wrapped his arm around her waist to support her.
    "Oh... yes... I'm all right, really. I've just felt a little bit dizzy for the last few days..." _Probably since it's just
    after spring break and she's still feeling the effects of the Veritaserum,_ Harry thought.
    "We don't need to take a walk, really. Why don't we just sit here for a while," he suggested, motioning to a shady spot beneath
    a tree. Rachel nodded.
    "That might be a good idea," she agreed. "I just don't know what's wrong with me," she murmured, placing her hand on her forehead.
    Harry felt the all-too-familiar guilt rising in his chest.
    "I'm sure it's nothing bad," he assured her. "Maybe you just haven't gotten enough sleep this week." Rachel nodded.
    "Yes, that must be it. I was up late studying last night," she suggested. "Maybe that's why."
    ****************
    Hermione had owled Rita Skeeter a few days earlier, and she had replied immediately. The trio had snuck out into Hogsmeade wearing
    Harry's invisibility cloak in order to meet her.
    "So I hear you have something interesting to tell me about our current Minister of Magic?" Rita Skeeter asked, pulling out her
    Quick Quotes Quill and a piece of parchment. She tapped her long red fingernails on the table inside the Three Broomsticks.
    "Oh, yes," Hermione said, grinning. "Go on, Harry... Ron..."
    **************
    Before Harry knew it, it was the week before N.E.W.T.s. The once-giggling girls in the library were now dead serious, focused
    completely on their studies. The absolute silence in the library unnerved Harry, and he had taken to studying in the main Common
    Room or while listening to others talk.
    The professors were trying to cram in every last bit of information possible. Professor Flitwick had made each student perform
    eight different complex charms in his final class and Professor Sprout had her students working with Bohun Upas - mythical trees
    that would cause anyone who fell asleep under them to die - in greenhouse 5. For Defense Against the Dark Arts, the students
    were still practicing defensive spells, as well as learning about vampires. Professor McGonagall spent an entire afternoon in
    Transfiguration trying to explain the difference between turning a teacup into a frog and a toad. After his final class, Harry
    was exhasted; however, he knew that he had no time to take a break now.
    Harry studied for a few hours in the library before giving up for the evening. He glanced at his watch; it was nearly 10 p.m.
    He still had a few days before the N.E.W.T. tests. _I'll study more tomorrow,_ he thought as he gathered up his books and
    trudged upstairs to the dormitories.
    ***************
    "Harry, mate, you coming to breakfast?" Ron yelled as he rummaged through the cabinet on his side of the room. Harry rolled
    over in bed.
    "Uh, sure," he mumbled, grabbing his glasses off his nightstand. He dressed quickly and followed Ron out into the Heads' Common
    Room, where they met Hermione and Ginny.
    "Are you two going to breakfast?" Ginny asked, opening the door to go downstairs. "I am, I'm starved."
    "Yeah, we were just going to go too," Ron answered. They walked together to the Great Hall, with Harry and Ginny being very
    quiet and Ron and Hermione arguing over what would be on the Charms N.E.W.T. exam. The group sat together at the Gryffindor
    table and began to eat. Hermione was glancing nervously at the ceiling.
    "What're you going to study today, Ron?" Harry asked, trying to wake himself up. He took a sip of his pumpkin juice.
    "I dunno... Potions, I guess," Ron answered, poking his food. Harry heard a flutter of wings overhead, and a barn owl flapped
    its way over to Hermione's seat. She pulled the Daily Prophet out of its grasp and glanced at the front page. A smile spread
    slowly over her face.
    "Look at this!" she announced, holding up the newspaper. _**Lockhart a fake?**_ the headline read. _Minister of Magic
    Gilderoy Lockhart, who was inaugurated only a few weeks ago, has been accused by two of his former students at Hogwart's School
    of Witchcraft and Wizardry of lying about his accomplishments and attempting to Obliviate students._
    "Yes! Finally," Hermione sighed happily.
    "Oh, this is going to cause a mess..." Ron said shaking his head.
    Two hours later, Ron and Harry, whose names had been given in the Daily Prophet article, both received letters from identical
    black owls.
    "They're Ministry owls," Ron muttered, pulling his letter off the owl's leg. "Oh, this is bloody wonderful... we've been
    summoned to the Wizengamot... to testify against Lockhart!" Harry felt his stomach drop.
    "I don't really like the Wizengamot," he said quietly. "When I had to go there during fifth year, well... it was pretty creepy."
    Ron nodded.
    "I'm sure it was. Well, at least Dumbledore is on it again, right? How bad could it be?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head.
    "We've got N.E.W.T.s in less than a week and this is only two days away. How're we going to get through all of this?"
    ********************
    Two days later, Harry and Ron dressed nicely for their appearance at the Wizengamot. Harry had talked to Professor McGonagall
    about leaving the school grounds, and was surprised at how well she took the news.
    "It's to be expected," McGonagall had said with a sigh. "I know it may interfere with your studying, but it's for a good cause...
    that man had to face reality sooner or later."
    The two friends walked out the front doors of the school and continued about halfway to Hogsmeade before apparating. They had
    tried to convince Hermione to come, but since she wouldn't be allowed inside and she had "too much to study", she had declined.
    They apparated inside the atrium of the Ministry. Harry noticed that Ron looked extremely nervous; he was pulling at the collar
    of his robes and glancing all around him. They checked their wands with the guard, who didn't seem to even notice who they were.
    Silently, they walked together towards the lift.
    "Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement..." the woman's voice said cooly. A few memos flew in overhead and Amelia
    Bones and a woman that Harry recognized as an Elder from the Wizengamot entered. She smiled benignly at the two young men.
    "You must be Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley," she said kindly, holding out her hand. "I'm Griselda Marchbanks, glad to meet
    you."
    "Nice to meet you too," Harry mumbled, shaking her hand.
    "Level four, Department of Magical Transportation and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures-"
    A few more wizards that Harry didn't recognize got on the lift at this stop. By the time it arrived at Level Ten, the small
    space had become quite crowded. Harry, Ron, Amelia Bones, Griselda Marchbanks, and two wizards towards the back of the lift
    all got off on Level Ten. Harry and Ron followed the two Wizengamot members into the cold and forbidding courtroom.
    Ron gulped as they entered the room. Harry actually let out a sigh of relief as he saw that Lockhart was in the main chair -
    he remembered two summers ago when it had been him trapped in that exact place. He and Ron took seats off to the side of the
    chamber. As Harry looked around, he saw many familiar faces in the room; most of the Wizengamot was the same as it had been
    when he had been summoned for his own trial. He saw Professor Dumbledore in the seat that Cornelius Fudge had been in two
    years ago. Harry shook his head, attempting to rid himself of the bad memories. Ron nudged his arm suddenly.
    "Percy's here," he mumbled, nodding his head towards the front of the room where Percy Weasley sat ready with a quill and
    parchment. "He may have declared his loyalty to the family again, but he's just as big of a git as he always was..." Harry
    snickered.
    "What'd he do this time?" Harry asked.
    "Told mum all about us being witnesses for the trial. She sent me an owl today, worried about what we were going to say...
    Apparently, when she saw that article in the Daily Prophet she was going spare-"
    "Can I have your attention please," Dumbledore announced, quieting the room immediately. "We will now begin the trial of
    Minister Gilderoy Lockhart."
    "Look, what a prat! He's grinning like a maniac," Ron hissed, staring at Lockhart as he sat in the chair. "Doesn't he realize
    that he's going to be thrown out of office?" Indeed, Gilderoy Lockhart was smiling as though nothing was wrong and waving at
    various members of the Wizengamot. To Harry, he looked utterly ridiculous in his lilac robes.
    "Minister Lockhart, you have been accused of lying during your campaign for Minister as well as administering restricted curses -
    specifically, memory-altering charms - on minors." He paused. "I see that you have chosen to represent yourself in this trial,
    is that correct?"
    "Yes, Albus, that is correct!" Lockhart replied, smiling again. "I couldn't trust anyone else to defend ME."
    "Of course, Minister," Dumbledore replied, looking slightly amused. "We will deal with your charges of lying in connection
    with your campaign later; first, we will begin with the accusations of attempted memory charms on minors. Can you explain the
    events of June 12, 1993?"
    "Oh... er... well, at that time I was teaching at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Defense Against the Dark Arts,
    you know. It's my specialty." He paused to shoot the members of the Wizengamot another shining smile. "But as you know, I had
    an accident that night in which I had a slight memory problem myself... I can't seem to remember what happened then, or for
    quite some time afterward."
    "So you don't have any idea what happened on June 12?" Amelia Bones asked.
    "No, none at all," Lockhart replied, for the first time looking slightly unsure of himself.
    "Well then, Minister, if that is all the information you can give us, I would like to call Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Ronald
    Weasley to the witnesses' stand." People began whispering loudly at the mention of Harry's name. Nervously, the two friends
    stood and walked to the front of the room, where two squashy armchairs had appeared. "Mr. Potter, would you tell me what
    happened on the evening of June 12?"
    "Well, Ron and I had found out that Ron's sister had been kidnapped and taken into the Chamber of Secrets. We tried to take
    Professor Lockhart with us, but he was packing up his belongings... I'm not exactly sure where he was going. Er, anyway, so
    after we had entered the chamber, Professor Lockhart immediately stole Ron's wand-"
    "Mr. Weasley, is this true?" a heavy-jawed witch boomed from the third row.
    "Yes ma'am," Ron said politely. "The only problem was that my wand had been damaged earlier that year, so it was no longer
    functioning properly."
    "Go on, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said, giving Harry a small wink.
    "So Professor - er, Minister Lockhart stole Ron's wand. He pointed it at us and said that he was going to go back up from the
    chamber without saving Ginny, and that he was going to erase our memories and say that he had killed the basilisk." Dumbledore
    nodded deeply.
    "What happened next?" he asked.
    "Well," Ron began. "When he pointed my old wand at us, he tried to use the 'obliviate' spell, but because my wand was broken
    it backfired. He was hit with the spell, and had to spend over a year in St. Mungo's."
    "That isn't true!" Lockhart insisted. "I was only in St. Mungo's for a few weeks. Not long at all, I tell you!"
    "We saw him in the long-term ward three years after it happened!" Harry cried, turning towards his former professor.
    "Calm down, please," Dumbledore said to the now-chatting Wizengamot. "Percy Weasley, I believe you have records of Minister
    Lockhart's medical history, do you not?"
    "Oh yes, Mr. Dumbledore," Percy said hurriedly, shuffling through several papers that littered the desk in front of him.
    "I have his records from St. Mungo's right here." He stood up and rushed toward Dumbledore's seat.
    "Let's see..." Dumbledore pondered, poring over the paperwork. "Ah, yes... Gilderoy Lockhart, admitted to St. Mungo's Hospital
    for Magical Maladies and Injuries on June 13, 1993 for severe memory loss... Discharged on December 18, 1997." The crowd let
    out a gasp.
    "Five years?" asked an older man that Harry recognized as an Elder on the council. "You were in St. Mungo's for the last five
    years?"
    "Oh, of course not! At least, I don't think so..." Lockhart replied, scratching his head.
    "Forget about that! What about his attempted attacks on these innocent children?" cried a motherly-looking woman. "Honestly!
    Are these accusations true, Minister Lockhart?"
    "Absolutely not. I would do no such thing. I don't remember that night, but I'm sure I was a wonderful professor and all of
    the students loved me!" he said haughtily, his golden curls bouncing in anger.
    "Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. Do you certify that the facts that you have presented to the Wizengamot are true?" Dumbledore asked.
    "Yes," they both replied immediately.
    "Does anyone doubt the vadility of this story or wish for further information about it?" No one responded; most of the Wizengamot
    appeared to be in a deep state of shock. "Very well; Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter - you are both dismissed. I know you have a lot
    of studying left to do this afternoon; good luck on your N.E.W.T.s." Harry and Ron rose from their chairs at the front of the
    room and practically ran out the door.
    "Can you believe that?" Ron cried as soon as they were out of the room. "They actually listened to us! He doesn't have a chance
    anymore!"
    "I sure hope not," Harry said, shaking his head. "I wish we could have gotten more time in there though." Ron cringed.
    "It was weird enough being up there in front of that many people for that long... I wouldn't have wanted to do it much longer."
    They entered the lift and moved slowly towards the atrium, stepping out to see the space busy and full of light.
    "Well, it's over with now," Harry said, more to himself than to Ron. "Now we've just got N.E.W.T.s to take care of." Ron gave
    the Ministry one last glance.
    "Isn't it an odd feeling, knowing we'll be back here on April 27?" Ron asked quietly. Harry shivered.
    "Let's not talk about that right now."
    ****************
    We're getting close to the end... Not quite sure how close, because every time I try to estimate I end up fitting less and
    less events in each chapter than I planned, lol. Oh well - it will all get written eventually! Hope everyone is still
    enjoying and reading my story! Remember to review please.
    Thanks to my reviewers:
    hpff.com
    mandymallason
    Sydney, who has made sure to review each and every chapter ;) Thanks so much!
    GolfinWizard
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    Natural Anthem
    


	28. Chapter 28

HTML

BChapter 29: Studying, Secrets, and Snogging

/B

"Education is the ability to listen to almost anything

without losing your temper or your self-confidence."

-Robert Frost

B/B

Harry Potter was deeply focused on his reading and feeling quite comfortable in the armchair in which he was seated when Ron

walked into the Heads' Common Room and sighed loudly.

"I'm so sick of studying with her," he grumbled, sprawling out in the chair opposite Harry. "We've been in the library for

SIX HOURS, but she doesn't think it's been long enough to take a break-"

"That's Hermione for you," Harry mumbled, still absorbed in the booklet he was reading.

"What're you reading, mate? Is that the N.E.W.T. preparation thing?" Ron asked. Harry finally looked up and nodded, holding

up the booklet so that Ron could see the cover, which read IN.E.W.T.s and You: How to Prepare for the Nasty, Exhausting

Wizarding Tests/I. "Anything good in there? I really haven't looked at mine yet," Ron commented, rummaging through his

backpack.

"Not particularly," Harry said, flipping the page to a chapter entitled IWhat Your Results Mean/I. "It sounds like the

actual tests are a lot like the O.W.L.s, except the practical portion is worth more than the exam... the scoring is pretty much

the same too."

"Fascinating, huh?" Ron asked, opening a slightly-crushed package of biscuits he had found in his bag and shoving a few in his

mouth. "I'm starving, aren't you? I hope it's nearly time for dinner." Harry glanced at his watch and nodded.

"Almost. I'm going to finish this chapter and then I'll meet you down there, is that all right?" he asked.

"Fine by me," Ron agreed, standing up. With a nod, he strolled out of the room and down the stairs. Harry went back to reading.

IEach N.E.W.T. test is graded by a certified professor in the individual field

of the exam. The student will receive a score for each test they have taken, which

includes both the practical and exam portions, as well as an overall average score.

Please see the chart on page 74 to determine what score you will need to achieve to

enter your desired field of employment./I

Harry quickly flipped to page 74 and ran his finger down the column. "Auror... auror... where the bloody hell is it..." he

muttered to himself. He groaned loudly when he finally found it. The line read IAuror, British Ministry School: no applicants

with less than five N.E.W.T.s at or above 'Exceeds Expectations' will be accepted; these must include Defense Against the Dark

Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions./I "Wonderful," he said to himself sarcastically. "Charms on Monday, Defense on

Tuesday, Potions on Wednesday, and Transfiguration on Thursday... I have to get every single one, plus another N.E.W.T. in

something else." He sighed, closing the booklet and standing up to go to dinner. "This is going to be the longest week of my life!"

After dinner, almost all of the seventh years had resumed their studying. Hermione had insisted on quizzing Harry over the plants

she suspected would be on the Herbology exam that Monday. Neville joined them about halfway through, and was able to name off

all of the species that Harry couldn't remember. After about an hour of this, he gave up and joined Ron on the couch; Harry had

to stifle a laugh as he glanced at the book Ron was holding and saw a muggle comic book hidden inside.

"Studying hard, Ron?" Harry asked, cocking his eyebrow and grinning.

"Er- of course," Ron muttered, looking up guiltily. "Don't tell Hermione, she'll kill me..."

"I won't," Harry assured him. "Where did you get that, anyway?" he asked, leaning over Ron's shoulder.

"Dean lent it to me," Ron answered. Harry nodded absently, looking as though he was deep in thought. He stood up.

"I suppose I should find my Charms book and study a little for that," he commented, running his hand through his hair. Ron

mumbled something incoherent, and Harry left the room, walking up the spiral staircase to the Heads' rooms. He began to dig

through his trunk for the book; it must be somewhere near the bottom, he reasoned, since he hadn't used it in so long. As

he reached into the depths of the trunk, his fingers brushed something flat and cold and he pulled it out. His eyes widened

as he realized exactly what it was: a chunk of the now-broken mirror that Sirius had given him during his fifth year. He sat

back on his haunches, feeling overcome by his emotions. Idly, he drew a finger over the cool glass as he stared at the reflection

of half of his face in the broken piece. With a soft smile, he set the shard back down into the bottom of his trunk and pulled

out his Charms book, which had been just above it. II know Sirius is watching out for me right now,/I he thought to himself,

attempting to swallow an unexpected lump in his throat. IAnd I'm going to need every bit of help I can get./I

Harry returned to the main Common Room, but after studying for a few more hours he felt himself becoming restless. Other students

had begun to turn in for the night, and the ones that remained appeared to be very sleepy. Neville was reading something in

the corner of the room, his head propped up in his hand and his eyes half-closed; Hermione was still studying Herbology

intently; Ron was snoring gently on the couch; and Seamus was packing up his belongings and looked as though he was ready to

go to sleep as well. Harry glanced at his watch and saw that it was well after midnight. Although he didn't feel tired yet,

he was sick of studying so he headed up to his bedroom, throwing his Charms book on top of the pile on his trunk. He lay face-up

on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Everyone else was asleep... or studying... or doing a little bit of both... IWhat am I

supposed to do?/I he thought silently.

An idea crept into his head; it was one he immediately pushed away, but the longer he thought about it, the better it seemed.

IJust a bit of a walk,/I he told himself, pulling the curtains on his bed closed and blowing out his candle so it would seem to

Ron that he had gone to sleep. Shoving his wand into his robes and glancing around the room one last time, he approached the

painting on the wall and moved his finger over the sleepy-looking fish in the pond. The secret door swung open, and Harry Potter

disappeared into the darkness.

After nearly seven years of being a student there, moving undetected through Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was

like second nature for Harry. Sure, the Marauder's Map was a great help, but through the years he had developed a kind of sixth

sense that alerted him to anyone who was nearby in the hallways. Some nights, like tonight, he didn't even bother with the Map.

As he slipped out the heavy wooden doors into the cool spring air outside, Harry had to grin; he felt a little twinge of triumph

every time he knew he had thwarted Filch and Mrs. Norris.

He slipped off into the shadows and transformed into a wolf, exhaling a breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding. It

had been so long since he had used his animagus powers; somewhere in the back of his mind, he was worried that he might have

forgotten, but luckily this was not the case. He stretched his legs, feeling powerful and energetic. The night was young, and

Harry intended on relieving some stress before he returned to his dormitory. He started out at a light jog, but eventually

broke out into an all-out run as he entered the Forbidden Forest. The night was crisp and clear, and Harry breathed in the

sweet smell of the trees and grass. This was freedom, pure freedom.

Harry paused to sniff an unfamiliar smell, but the scent was so weak that he dismissed it within seconds, preferring to run

once more. He dashed through the forest, the leaves and sticks under his soft paws barely making any noise at all. The air

would have almost been chilly if he hadn't had a thick fur coat; to a wolf, however, it felt perfectly comfortable.

Once again, Harry picked up the odd smell, this time stronger than before. He halted almost immediately and began sniffing

the ground, his ears perking up to catch any sounds. He heard a twig crack about a hundred meters away and he began to approach

cautiously. He was near the edge of the forest, he knew; the castle was almost visible from here. From the scent, he could tell

there were at least two people present, possibly three; he was beginning to hear snatches of their conversation.

"-be careful, you bumbling idiot-" hissed a voice that was all too familiar. The hair stood up on the back of Harry's neck and

he had to resist the urge to growl. IWhat is Malfoy doing here?/I he wondered, creeping closer.

"Sorry Draco, Crabbe pushed me," Goyle was whining.

"What time is it? Is it time yet?" Crabbe asked in a low voice.

"You two are like children," Draco snapped, glancing at his surroundings. Harry noticed, with immense satisfaction, that Draco

appeared to be very nervous; he remembered his enemy's intense fear of the Forbidden Forest.

"Is it time?" Crabbe repeated. Draco pulled a silver pocketwatch out of his robes and looked at it.

"Nearly. Here, you'd better touch it. We don't want to miss this, or we'll be be in deep-"

"Oops!" Goyle had stumbled over a root and had fallen, almost pulling down Draco with him.

"Quiet down and stand still!" Draco hissed, glaring in Goyle's direction. "We only have a few seconds. Hurry up!" Crabbe and

Goyle both held out a finger and touched the silver pocketwatch, which glowed blue for a second before disappearing and bringing

all three young men along with it.

Harry shivered as a cold breeze blew through the forest. He stared at the spot where the three Slytherins had been only seconds

before. IWhere are they going at 2 AM?/I he wondered, but found that he really didn't want to know the answer. Silently,

he turned towards the castle and quickened his pace as he headed towards the door he had left through.

"Harry! Hey mate, are you coming to breakfast or not?" Ron's voice called out, rousing Harry from his restless slumber. He

rolled over in bed and pulled back the curtains a bit, searching his nightstand for his glasses.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he muttered, kicking the blankets off his legs.

"You all right? You don't look like you got much sleep last night," Ron commented, tying the laces on his trainers.

"I'm fine," Harry stated, rummaging through his clothes for clean robes. He pulled on some fresh ones and ran his hand through

his messy hair.

"Ready?" Ron asked, and Harry nodded. They walked through the quiet hallways until they reached the Great Hall, where they

found Hermione already eating.

"Look at this!" she said excitedly, thrusting a newspaper under Harry's nose. "I told you it would work," she said in an

obnoxiously know-it-all tone of voice. Harry picked up the copy of the IDaily Prophet/I and glanced at the headline, which

read IBLockhart officially out of office/B/I.

"Finally," Ron said. "Why'd it take this long?"

"Well, it's a very complex process, Ron," Hermione began. "First, they have to-"

"Enjoying all your studying?" Rachel asked, coming up behind Harry and giving him an innocent peck on the cheek. "I feel as

though I haven't seen you in months!" Harry's mouth suddenly felt very dry, and he swallowed with difficulty. He found he couldn't

even meet Rachel's eyes - one of the reasons he had been avoiding her. IHer not knowing about Voldemort... and her family

being Death Eaters... and our plan for Friday... It's going to ruin any part of a relationship we ever had./I The thought

flashed through his head and he tried to ignore it for the time being.

"Did you want to study together for Charms or Herbology tonight?" he asked, trying to sound normal.

"Sure," she replied, sitting down next to him. "I can't believe N.E.W.T.s start tomorrow, can you?" Harry shook his head.

"No," he answered simply.

Harry spent the afternoon playing chess with Ron while Hermione glared at the two of them for skiving off from their studies.

She had given up on lecturing and was flipping frantically through her Ancient Runes notes. Ron looked up from their game for

a second and read the name of the class on the back of the notebook.

"Ancient Runes? Hermione, isn't that test on Friday?" he asked cautiously. She gave him a Look.

"Yes. And your point is?" she insisted.

"Well... it's Sunday. It's nearly a week away..." Ron shrugged.

"I can't study here with you talking to me!" she cried, throwing her books haphazardly into her backpack and stomping off

furiously towards her bedroom.

"Someone's in a bad mood," Ron mumbled as he examined the board. "Knight to E7." Harry watched as one of his pieces was destroyed

in a violent battle. He was losing again; he always lost to Ron. It was getting pointless to even play anymore.

"I'm just surprised she's not on your case about studying," Harry commented as he contemplated his next move. Ron shrugged.

"Well, I wouldn't tell her this, but no matter how I do on my N.E.W.T.s I've still got a job," he responded. "I feel bad for

you mate - at least three more years of school after this! Ugh. I'm sick of it now, I want out. Fred and George had the right

idea. N.E.W.T.s are completely worthless." Harry had to smile at Ron's desire for the year to be over. He couldn't help but

feel a tiny bit jealous; after all, how many people were offered a position on a professional Quidditch team? IThat could have been

me,/I Harry thought, moving a rook without giving much consideration to where the piece was going. IBut in the last few years,

Quidditch has become so unimportant. All I really want is everyone to be safe and Voldemort to be gone./I He looked up at Ron, who was

grinning like a maniac; Harry had just given him the shot that he needed. He moved one final piece into position.

"Checkmate," he declared triumphantly.

As Harry walked to meet Rachel that evening, the memory from the night before played through his head again and again like a

movie. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle... what had they been doing in the Forbidden Forest? Where had the portkey taken them to? As

he was pondering this, he felt his shoulder collide with someone else's. He muttered a quick "sorry" as he glanced up to see

who it was - and was surprised to see Draco Malfoy glaring down at him.

"Watch where you're going, Potter," he spat nastily, rubbing his forearm as if he was in great pain. He stalked down the hall

without another word.

Harry rolled his eyes. IThat was odd,/I he thought to himself. Hadn't he bumped into Draco's shoulder? Then why was he acting

as though his forearm hurt?

"Harry, there you are!" Rachel smiled as he appeared near the entrance to the Hufflepuff dormitories. "Where did you want to

study?"

"Hmm... Well, since it's Charms, we'll need somewhere with some space to work in," he said thoughtfully. "What about the Room

of Requirements?" Rachel grinned wryly.

"That's what I thought of at first. But I guess I didn't realize how many people know about that now; I overheard Zacharias

Smith telling some other blokes in the Common Room that he and his girlfriend were going to be hanging around there for a while -

and it didn't sound like they were going to be studying," she told him, arching an eyebrow.

"Scratch that, then," Harry said hurriedly as Rachel laughed. "Why don't we just find an empty classroom to practice in?"

"That should be fine," Rachel said, beginning to walk down the hall. "There must be loads of them around, right?" The pair

managed to find one a floor down from where they had started. Harry opened the door and entered cautiously, but the room was

completely empty and appeared as though it had been so for quite some time. A large cloud of dust formed when Rachel stepped

into the room, and she was soon coughing.

"It's such a mess in here!" she complained, trying to clear her throat. "Shouldn't they still clean this room, even if it's

not being used?" Harry grinned and pulled his wand out of his pocket.

"The first charm of the night," he announced, pointing his wand at the floor, where the dust was nearly three inches thick.

"IScourgify!/I" The filth disappeared, and Harry repeated the process a few more times until the air had become breathable

again.

"Well, now that that's done, let's hit the books," Rachel said, sitting down in one of the rusty old desks. Harry joined her

and they began reviewing their books and notes, searching for concepts and spells that would likely come up on the N.E.W.T.

test the next day.

"What do you think about the Bubble-Head Charm?" Harry asked, pointing to a picture in his textbook. It showed a man with

what looked like an upside-down fishbowl on his head.

"Oh, that's sure to be on there," Rachel said, nodding vigorously. "Want to try it?" She pointed her wand at her own head, looking

a little nervous. "IRespiro!/I" she cried, and a large bubble formed around her head. Harry had to fight back laughter at

the sight; Rachel noticed this and crossed her arms, looking angry. "Are you going to try too, or are you just going to laugh

at me?" she asked, her voice slightly annoyed. Harry got himself under control and pointed his wand at his face.

"IRespiro,/I he muttered, but the spell hadn't worked correctly; the bubble only extended from the top of his head to the

tips of his ears. Rachel burst out laughing.

"It looks like you're wearing a funny hat!" she cried, holding her sides as she let out a muffled giggle from inside her own

bubble.

After a few more attempts, Harry had managed to overcome his difficulties and could now perform a successful Bubble-Head Charm;

they moved on to Flame Freezing Charms, Color Changing Charms, and Shield Charms, all of which Rachel was sure would be on the

exam. After a few hours of intense studying, Rachel closed the cover of her book.

"I think I'm done with studying for tonight," she said, standing up to stretch her legs. Harry followed suit, closing his book

and standing up next to her. He glanced at his watch.

"Are you really going back already? It's still quite early," he commented. She smirked.

"Who said anything about going back?" she asked seductively, wrapping her arms around his neck. Harry grinned and placed his

hands on her hips. As his lips met hers, thoughts of killing Voldemort and lying to Rachel were pushed to the back of his mind

and Harry was amazed at the amount of passion - and yes, even love - in their kiss. IIsn't love unbreakable? Isn't true love

the kind of thing that can survive any test? Maybe we can make it through this,/I he thought.

Harry found himself being pulled from his thoughts and thrust into the present moment as he felt Rachel's fingertips drawing soft

circles on his back. He drew Rachel even closer to him and the passionate intensity of their kissing grew. Rachel stumbled backward,

falling against the wall, but was held up by Harry's body pressing against her. In their reluctance to break apart, the couple fell

to the floor. Harry ended up lying on top of Rachel, staring into her enchantingly light green eyes. He was suddenly very aware of the

position they were in and grimanced, blushing bright red.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Rach, maybe we should stop-"

"Shhh," she whispered, holding a finger up to his lips. Entwining her fingers in his jet black hair, she drew his face back

down towards her own. "Don't ruin the moment," she whispered, before their lips met once again.

A/N: I am still alive!! I know I was gone for a month (hence the lack of updates!) and then when I finally did come back,

submissions were closed at hpff. Luckily, that just gave me more time to perfect this extremely long chapter. I hope you all

enjoyed it, though I know nothing profound happened; it's all leading up to the end, and we're almost there. I'm thinking

another 3-4 chapters for this story, but if I can't fit everything in there, it will end up being longer than that.

I tried to put Rachel in a more active role, I know she's kind of been pushed to the side through a lot of the story. As some

of you have pointed out, yes she is very naive, but then again she is a Hufflepuff... I think she can get away with it. Harry

is obviously very confused about their relationship right now, and things are soon to take a turn for the worse.

Someone asked me in a review what I thought of the PoA movie, and I have to say I was slightly disappointed. If you just look

at it as a movie, the acting was great and so was the set (I LOVED what they did with Hogwarts), but other parts were just

plain confusing. The meaning of MWPP and the Whomping Willow was never explained, nor was the animagus connection between

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter... or the reason they decided to become animagi...

Well, I'll stop my complaining now. What did you think of the movie? Tell me in your review!

Thanks to all my amazing reviewers (and there are definitely a lot of you...)

UHpff.com/U

Sydney

mandymallason

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who me

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JuJu

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Am

Melissa

Tonkster

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Hermione girl

Ash

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	29. Chapter 29

A/N: I always have problems on this site. None of the HTML tags worked =( Sorry, just pretend, lol. Thanks for reading!

HTML

BChapter 30: Unlucky Thirteen

/B

"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves."

-William Shakespeare

B/B

Harry thought he heard a loud noise outside he and Ron's bedroom door, but he decided the best decision would be to stay in

bed. The noise continued - a kind of loud, insistent banging - and Harry pulled his blanket over his head, effectively muffling

the sound. Two sleep-deprived nights hadn't put him in the best of moods, and he couldn't even bring himself to think straight.

He had stayed out a lot later last night than he had intended with Rachel; by the time he had gotten back to the Gryffindor

Common Room, it was completely empty. IProbably because we have N.E.W.T.s today,/I Harry though tiredly, rolling

over. The thought took a second to sink in.

Harry's eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright in bed.

"We have N.E.W.T.s today!" Harry exclaimed, pulling back the bedcurtains. "Ron, what time is it?" All he heard was a groan

from the other side of the room.

"I've been trying to wake you up for fifteen minutes!" Hermione's irritated voice said from the other side of the door. Harry

grabbed his watch from the nightstand and saw that it was 7:50 AM. IOnly ten minutes until the exam begins.../I He flew out of

bed and pulled the door open.

"Hurry up, you're both going to miss it!" Hermione cried anxiously, wringing her hands.

"You go on ahead without us, we'll be there," Harry replied, slamming the door shut again.

"But Mum, I don't wanna get up..." Ron muttered, pulling his pillow over his head.

"Ron, get out of bed! We're going to miss our first N.E.W.T. exam!"

Exactly seven minutes later, the two roommates rushed breathlessly into the Great Hall to begin the exam portion of the Charms

N.E.W.T. test. A frumpy, middle-aged witch whose expression reminded him of Professor McGonagall escorted Harry and Ron to their

seats, giving them a look which clearly showed her displeasure at their late arrival. There were seats in rows, like there had been for the

O.W.L. exams, but the stack of papers sitting on their desks were definitely N.E.W.T. exams. Harry leafed through the booklet quickly,

and found to his dismay that the test was nearly twice as long as the one he had taken two years ago. With a deep breath to calm his

now-racing heart after his rush to be on time, he took out his quill and began to write.

Three hours later, the trio found themselves sitting at an unusually quiet lunch table.

"My brain hurts," Ron moaned, laying his forehead on the table. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"That was only Charms!" she scoffed. "That's one of the easiest subjects. You can't even IMAGINE how hard Arithmancy is going to be,

and I have to take that one tomorrow!"

"So then... we have the Herbology exam from 1:00 to 4:00 today-" Harry began.

"-and the Charms practical from 5:00 to 6:00," Ron commented glumly.

"-and the Herbology practical from 7:00 to 8:00," Hermione finished.

"Well, if this isn't the bloody week from hell," Ron muttered. Hermione glared at him.

"It's only five days. And neither of you have any N.E.W.T.s on Friday, since that's Divination and Ancient Runes," she pointed out, studying

her schedule. "So four days. I think you'll live, Ron." He frowned.

"I wouldn't be so sure."

If Harry had thought the Charms exam had been difficult, the Herbology test was practically impossible. The names of all the plants he had

studied with Neville seemed to have slipped his mind, and he found himself guessing more and more often. When the exam was finally complete,

he had to rush off to the Charms practical, which ended up being exhausting after he had to undergo the Stupefying Charm, leaving him with much

less energy than when he had begun the day. He managed to cast the same charm on his partner, Parvati Patil, without any problem but left the

practical without high hopes for the Herbology practical.

He was surprised to find that the final test of the day was quite simple; the students only needed to extract the essence of belladona, which mostly

consisted of crushing the leaves in a giant press. Harry left greenhouse five at 8 PM that evening, completely exhausted but feeling slightly better about

his Herbology grade.

"Hey guys, wait up!" Neville called as Ron, Harry, and Hermione walked back to the castle. He jogged to catch up with them. "So, how'd you think

it went? I thought it was loads easier than the exam portion."

"Yeah, so did I," Harry replied.

"Now we can finally eat something for dinner," Ron commented, rubbing his stomach. "I'm starving!" Hermione laughed.

"You always are, Ron."

"He should be," Harry defended. "It's after 8:00!"

"They're trying to kill us this week, I swear," Ron complained. Hermione rolled her eyes but managed to stay silent.

"I'm worried about the Defense exam tomorrow," Neville said in an anxious voice. "D'you think it's going to be hard, Hermione?"

"I don't know, I'm really quite worried too..." The conversation about academics continued as the group of seventh years made their way into the

Great Hall for dinner. Harry seemed distant and stayed quiet for most of the meal. He noticed Hermione look up at the teachers' table and frown.

"That's odd... I haven't seen Professor Dumbledore at a meal in quite some time now," she said, studying the other adults at the table.

"He's probably off doing Order business. Don't think on it, Hermione. I'm sure he's fine," Ron told her, shoving mashed potatoes into his mouth.

Harry couldn't help but think that Hermione looked as worried as he felt. However, Harry Potter's mind was far from the average student's worries.

He couldn't stop thinking that it was Monday, and by Friday night he would be inside of the Ministry of Magic, tempting fate and changing the course

of the future.

The next few days flew by. Tuesday was Defense Against the Dark Arts, Wednesday was Potions and Astronomy, and Thursday was

Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures. The Defense test had been rather easy; for part of the practical, the students had been asked

to perform the Patronus Charm. The former members of the DA nearly laughed when they heard this, since they had been able to do just that

for the past two years.

Potions was a different story. Harry had tried to concentrate on his potion - the Draught of the Living Dead - but had accidentally added too much

powdered asphodel. His concoction was slightly darker orange than most of the other students' potions, but he was glad it wasn't emitting great

green bubbles like Crabbe's was.

The Astronomy practical took place near midnight, and although the test was this time free of distractions, Harry managed to forget most of

the names of the constellations. By the time Thursday rolled around, the seventh years at Hogwart's were sick of taking tests and studying.

Harry had been able to think more about the exams than his approaching encounter with Lord Voldemort. But Thursday afternoon, as he and

Ron stood waiting for their turn during the Transfiguration practical, the subject was once again brought up.

"Hermione thinks we should have a meeting tonight about what we're doing tomorrow," Ron said in a low voice, glancing around to make sure

no one else was listening. "Just to pick a time to meet, and maybe make sure everything is ready and explained." Harry nodded.

"That's fine. How about the Room of Requirements at 9 PM?" he asked. Ron nodded.

"I'll let Hermione know and we'll try to find everyone and tell them before then," he said.

"POTTER, HARRY!" a frail voice cried out. Harry took a deep breath and walked towards the almost-empty Transfiguration classroom.

"Good luck, mate," Ron whispered. Harry entered the room.

"Oh, very nice to see you again, Mr. Potter," said an elderly gentleman who Harry recognized as Professor Tofty, one of the examiners who

had overseen his O.W.L. exams. "Now, if we could have you transfigure this kneazle into an ordinary cat..."

Harry was surprised when Professor McGonagall caught his attention on his way out of the Great Hall after lunch.

"Mr. Potter, the Headmaster would like to see you tonight," she said, her voice sounding somewhat anxious. "Please be in his office as

soon as you can after your last exam. The password is Canary Creams." Harry nodded.

"Is there something wrong, Professor?" he asked her. McGonagall pressed her lips into a thin smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Of course not, Mr. Potter. Now hurry, or you'll be late to your practical, and we wouldn't want that to happen." She swept away in a rush,

heading upstairs to her office. Harry jogged to catch up with Ron and Hermione, who were walking out the doors to take their practical Care

of Magical Creatures exam.

"What was that all about?" Hermione asked immediately as he caught up to them.

"I'm supposed to talk to Professor Dumbledore tonight," Harry responded. Hermione looked relieved.

"Oh, good. That must mean he's back! But he wasn't at lunch today, that's peculiar."

"I told you he was fine, 'Mione," Ron said, sounding satisfied with himself.

"Well really Ron, we don't know that he's fine, all we know is that he's going to be at Hogwart's tonight-" The bickering continued until they

reached the area that had been set up for the exam, but Harry wasn't really listening. He was deep in thought about what Dumbledore could

possibly want to talk to him about - and why he had been mysteriously missing for so long.

Harry couldn't help but feel overjoyed as he finished his final exam of the day. Sure, it was 8 PM and the last twelve hours had dragged on for

what seemed like days, but for Harry Potter, the burden of N.E.W.T.s was finally over. He didn't have any tests tomorrow, the final day of exams,

since the classes being tested were Divination and Ancient Runes. He practically skipped back to the castle - then remembered he had to meet

Dumbledore. He bid Ron and Hermione goodbye, promising to meet them before 9:00 for their meeting. He walked quickly to the Headmaster's

office.

"Canary Creams," he said with a smile, as the gargoyles sprang back to allow him to enter the stairwell. IThose Weasley twins sure have had

a lot of impact/I, he thought grinning to himself. Fred and George were surely rich by now. He headed upstairs and knocked eagerly on Professor

Dumbledore's door.

"Come in," said a female voice. Harry cracked the door open slightly and peered in, seemingly confused. His good mood fizzled away into nothing

as he saw the sight in front of his eyes. The room was empty except for a woman standing in front of him. "Come upstairs, boy," said the cranky-

sounding witch dressed in Healer robes. She led him up the stairs to Dumbledore's sleeping quarters. "Don't stay too long, he needs his rest," she

told him as she pushed Harry into the room and shut the door behind him with a snap.

Harry gasped as he looked across the room to the enormous bed. Dumbledore was lying unmovingly under the great canopy, but he opened his eyes

as he heard the door shut behind Harry.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I've been looking forward to seeing you," he said quietly, his normally strong voice sounding raspy.

"Professor Dumbledore... are you all right?" Harry asked, very concerned. Dumbledore sighed.

"It depends upon whose view you are asking for, Harry. But in my mind, I'm perfectly fine. You cannot stop the inevitable." Harry refused to let

himself think about the meaning of those words.

"Are you sick, Professor?" he asked. Dumbledore held a weak hand up to his face as he let out a rattly cough.

"Alas, that is what the Healers are insisting. But I know better. To be frank, Harry, there is only so long that one person may remain on this

Earth, and my time is nearly up." Harry's mouth dropped open in horror.

"But Professor... no, it can't be... I'm sure they can fix it, whatever it is-" Dumbledore held up a hand, signaling Harry to stop talking.

"Listen to me, Harry. Old age can be both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, I know far more about life than the average person - more than

you, more than the other professors, more than the Healers who believe they can cure me. On the other hand, old age brings fear - the fear that

this life is over and that there is nothing beyond it. Trust me, Harry, I do not have this fear. As I have told you before, death is but the next great

adventure. I've never been one to back away from an adventure, and I must tell you I'm quite looking forward to it." His blue eyes twinkled mischeviously

as if he were still young and healthy. "Oh, listen to me talking on about myself when I called you in here to talk about you, Mr. Potter."

"Wh-what about me?" Harry asked, his head still reeling.

"We have heard rumors that Voldemort is planning something big. I have heard no exact plans, however, so I remain uninformed in that respect.

I must warn you that I feel the final clash between you and Lord Voldemort is drawing ever nearer. Have you had this feeling yourself, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said nervously.

"I had assumed so. Do you feel that you are prepared?"

"Yes... well, I think so... er, maybe not-" Harry stuttered. Dumbledore let out a low chuckle.

"Never be too sure of yourself, Harry - it only causes arrogance, and hubris is so often the downfall of young heroes such as yourself."

"I'm not a hero, sir."

"Ah, of course. Whatever you may wish to believe." There was a soft knock on the door, and the witch dressed in Healer robes poked her head

inside the room.

"Headmaster, it's time for you to take your potion," she said. Dumbledore looked down at her through his half-moon spectacles.

"Give me a few more moments with Mr. Potter, please, Golda," he said to the woman, who promptly left and closed the door. "As I was saying,

Harry, all I can do at this point is wish you the best of luck and let you know that I have complete faith in you."

"But what if I can't do it? And I don't want to do it alone, I can't do it alone. I thought you would be there for me!" Harry said desperately. A serene

smile came over Dumbledore's face.

"Ah, Harry - you will not complete the prophecy alone. I can guarantee you that. As for me, well, you know I will always be there for you. Right here,

Harry," he said, touching his hand to his heart. "You understand love better than most grown witches and wizards. As I have told you many times, this

is why Voldemort cannot defeat you, Harry. Tom Riddle only knows cunning and wit - he knows nothing of love. When it comes down to the decision

between using your head and using your heart, you always make the right choice." Dumbledore was smiling now, but Harry could see tears shining

behind the old man's eyes. He felt the same burning behind his own eyelids.

"I've had the pleasure of seeing you grow into a fine young man, Harry, and let me tell you that you have become one of the finest wizards I have ever

laid eyes upon in my entire life. That's quite a compliment, seeing as I've lived this long." He let out a shaky laugh. "You no longer need me. In fact, you've

quite outgrown this old man."

"No, Professor... I, well... I don't know what to say."

"Does anyone ever know what to say? For the longest time, humans have made the same silly attempts to convert their complex feelings and

emotions into the flat and lifeless form of words. Few ever succeed." He glanced up at an odd-looking clock just above the bedroom door. "Mr. Potter,

I'm afraid I must bid you goodnight. Golda will be wanting me to take my potion, and she gets quite cranky if I don't listen to her." He chuckled. Harry

looked at him desperately.

"I'm so afraid, Professor. What if I can't fulfill the prophecy? What if I fail-"

"Harry, did you know that Mr. William Shakespeare was a wizard?" Harry nodded, confused as to what this had to do with the conversation. "One of

the few who was so skilled with words that he could recreate feelings with them. I have told you this before Harry, but let me put it as Mr. Shakespeare

has: 'It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.'" He smiled and reached out a feeble hand to catch Harry's.

"The power of destiny is not something that is written in a prophecy, Harry. It is you." Harry nodded, swallowing and trying to hold back his tears.

"Now we must bid one another goodnight, but not goodbye, for we shall meet again - of this I am sure." He squeezed Harry's hand before letting go.

"Goodnight, Mr. Potter."

"Goodnight, Professor Dumbledore."

Harry Potter walked slowly through the corridors of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, heading in the general direction of the Room

of Requirements. He had twenty minutes to get there, and he planned on using every one. Climbing a staircase he didn't have to take, Harry attempted

to control his emotions and sortout his thoughts. When he finally did arrive at the Room of Requirements, it was with renewed determination.

"Harry, we were worried you were going to be late," an anxious Hermione told him when he entered the room. Harry just shook his head.

"I'm still on time, aren't I?" he asked. Ron nodded.

"Could we start soon? I have Ancient Runes tomorrow morning, and I still need to study tonight," Padma Patil stated quietly.

"Of course," Harry said seriously. "Here's the plan. We will meet here tomorrow night at 10:45 PM. At exactly 11:00, we will use a portkey to

travel to the Ministry of Magic."

"How are we getting a portkey? And why can't we just apparate there?" Hannah Abbot asked, raising her hand.

"Hermione has set up the portkey," Harry said simply as his bushy-haired friend blushed. "Apparition is more dangerous, less accurate, and

not everyone who is going is certified yet." A murmur of approval ran through the room as Harry glanced back down at the piece of paper in his

hand. "We expect a battle, and you all must be prepared for that. Please tell me now if you want to back out - it's your last chance." No one moved.

"Okay then..." He glanced down again. "I picked partners for everyone - please stay with your partner and watch their back during any duel that may

happen. The pairs are Ginny and Neville, Ron and Hermione, Seamus and Parvati, Terry and Padma, Lavendar and Dean, and Hannah and Luna."

"You don't have a partner, Harry?" Ginny asked quietly. Harry shook his head.

"There was an odd number," he told her, his mouth oddly dry. "I'll be fine."

"Thirteen of us, to be exact," Luna added with a far-away expression. "That's an unlucky number, you know." Hermione sighed sarcastically

but said nothing.

Later that evening, Harry tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. He had been blissfully unaware of the situation at hand these last few

days because of the intense testing schedule. After his talk with Dumbledore, however, he had been thrust back into the present moment and

the danger that surrounded him seemed more prevalent than ever. Eventually sleep came to him, but with it came tumultuous dreams full of battles,

blood, and death. Harry was relieved when these nightmares gave way to a serene setting: an empty white room that seemed familiar and unfamiliar

at the same time....

"Dulcinea!" Harry called out earnestly, seeing the Spanish ghost standing quietly in the corner.

"Harry," she said with a smile, looking up at his face. "You are so close to the end of this entire ordeal. I cannot believe how far you have come

this year." He nodded, bowing his head. "The world is in shambles at the present moment, but the solution to this problem will be decided tomorrow

night. I know you can do it, Harry."

"I never thought I would have to go through with this without knowing that Dumbledore would be there for me in case I failed," he said miserably.

Dulcinea gave him a sad smile.

"It wouldn't have helped to have known that earlier, or I would have told you," she said sympathetically. Harry's head snapped up.

"You knew?!" he asked incredulously. Dulcinea shrugged.

"Well, of course. You knew as well. You must do this of your own will, Harry. Alone in conquest, but surrounded by friends in victory." Harry smiled

a tiny bit.

"That sounds pleasant," he said, before drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

Friday. It was Friday. Friday April 26, to be exact. Though he had no exams that day, Harry was wide awake at 8:00 AM. He stared at the

clock as he thought about what that night would bring. IIn 16 hours I'm going to be in the Ministry of Magic.../I He tried to shake the thought

from his head. Ron was still snoring gently - Idamn Weasley, he could sleep through a hurricane/I - but Harry had no intentions of falling back

asleep. He showered slowly and dressed in clean robes, trying to think of a way to waste the next 16 hours. Finally, he settled on filling out his Auror

application. Professor McGonagall had warned him that it would be a time-consuming process, and today he could only hope that it would be.

Four hours later, Hermione came bursting into the Heads' Common Room, where Harry sat surrounded by paperwork. She looked a little flustered

but was smiling. He glanced up at her.

"That was the hardest test I ever took," she admitted, brushing her hair back from her face. "But at least I'm done now, I just have the practical this

afternoon and that's bound to be easier, right?"

"Someone's a bit optimistic today," Ron grumbled as he entered the common room from his bedroom, yawning and ruffling his hair.

"Did you just wake up?" Hermione asked dubiously.

"Er... yeah," Ron shrugged. "What time is it, anyway?" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's noon, Ronald Weasley. Merlin, they give you a day off and you sleep the entire time! Look at Harry, he's been up doing important things-"

"Just because I couldn't sleep," Harry commented, pushing the pieces of parchment off to one side of the couch. "Why don't we all go to lunch

together?" Ron smiled.

"Sounds like a fabulous idea to me."

The rest of the day went by painfully slow for Harry. He had finished his application, sent it off, read an entire book, and wandered through the

whole castle several times over - and that was just before dinner. Later, Ron convinced him to play chess to take his mind off things, but he couldn't

concentrate on the game and ended up losing horribly. Finally, it was 10:30 PM. Glancing nervously at the Marauder's Map, the group of Gryffindor

students made their way downstairs to the Room of Requirements on the pretense that they were going to nick some food from the kitchens. The main

common room had been in an uproar - all of the seventh years were now done with their N.E.W.T.s, and students from every house had gathered there

to celebrate. It hadn't been that hard to come up with the excuse, and by the time the rest of the house realized they were gone, it would be too late.

The group gathered silently and Hermione stood in the middle, holding out her transfiguration textbook, which she had turned into a portkey earlier

that day. She glanced at her watch.

"It's nearly time," she said finally, and the students all reached in to place a finger on the book. Hermione looked down at her watch again and began

to count down.

"Five-"

Harry's eyes flitted around the room. Neville's face was screwed up in concentration; Lavendar's jaw was set in a determined manner; Ron looked

angry but ready.

"Four-"

Harry was surprised to feel butterflies in his stomach. II planned this for so long, it shouldn't make me nervous, especially since we're not

even there yet./I

"Three-"

He spotted a dark figure walking quickly towards the group from the corner of the room. Harry felt a wave of panic rising in his chest. The question

'who are you' died on his lips as he saw the person push forward into the group and place a single finger on the book. She flipped back her hood to

reveal plentiful blonde hair and brilliantly light green eyes.

"Two-"

"What are you doing here?" Harry hissed angrily. The green eyes reflected into his own with a look of determination.

"I'm coming with and it's too late to stop me!" Rachel retorted angrily.

"One-"

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Harry felt the familiar sensation of the portkey as it pulled him irresitibly forward towards the fate of his future.

Okay, okay I know... it's a cliffy =) But doesn't it make you want to read the next chapter?

Thank you all for being devoted readers and sticking in there even though it's taken me forever

to update. I've got the rest completely figured out, so it shouldn't take too long for me to get it posted.

Thank you so much everyone!!

Special thanks to my extra-cool, awesome, amazing reviewers:

UHpff.com:/U

GolfinWizard

dumbeldave

iwpotter

PadfootPotter

me

siriussnape

mandymallason

prashanth

kookyfan

Sydney

melissirius

dont wasn

Hermione girl

Bell

Steph

Uff.net:/U

potterorligurl

dixiegyrlde

Kaye

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	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 31: Fight to the Death**

****

I HELD a jewel in my fingers   

And went to sleep.       

The day was warm, and winds were prosy;      

I said: "'T will keep."   

I woke and chid my honest fingers,—

The gem was gone;      

And now an amethyst remembrance     

Is all I own.

-Emily Dickinson

****

The group landed with a jolt just outside the Ministry of Magic. Neville was so unstable that he

actually fell over; Hermione helped him up, apologizing for the portkey.

"I tried so hard to make it accurate that it wasn't quite as comfortable of a landing as they usually

are-"

Harry didn't even hear the conversation. He was so angry he was seeing red. He couldn't believe that

Rachel had come. _Out of everyone at Hogwart's, it had to be HER! SHE had to be the one to find out where_

_we__ were meeting!_ He glared at her, but she refused to make eye contact with him.

"Let's go, we don't want to attract attention," Padma Patil said quietly, and the group moved over

towards the telephone box.

"Are we all going to fit inside?" Parvati asked, examining the small room.

"Of course," Hermione said, shuffling the people ahead of her into the lift. "It expands." She gave

Harry a meaningful look. "Come on, let's go," she said gently. Angrily he squeezed in along with

everyone else and found, to his dismay, that he was squashed up against Rachel. Ron looked at the

blonde girl in surprise.

"How did she get here?" he asked, dialing 62446 on the phone.

"How did she find out, that's the real question," Harry growled.

"No one told me, for your information," she answered sharply. "I overheard Hannah talking to Lavendar

about it, and I figured it out from there. I don't know why you didn't want me here, Harry, but I

don't want to hear the 'you'll get hurt' excuse. And I know you're not here for Sirius. You lied

to me!" The other occupants of the lift were looking quite uncomfortable at being so close together

in the middle of this argument.

"Visitors, welcome to the Ministry of Magic," said a pleasant-sounding female voice. "Please state

your name and the purpose of your visit." No one said anything; the silence was deafening.

"Harry Potter, to fulfill a prophecy," he muttered. The others followed suit.

"Hermione Granger, to protect Harry Potter," she said proudly.

"Ron Weasley, to defeat V-v-voldemort." He swallowed uncomfortably.

"Ginevra Weasley, to save the world."

"Neville Longbottom, to get rid of evil."

"Seamus Finnigan, to do what's right."

"Parvati Patil, to defeat the Dark Lord."

"Padma Patil, to help everyone else."

"Terry Boot, to support Harry Potter."

"Lavendar Brown, to stand up against Voldemort."

"Dean Thomas, to save my friends and family."

"Luna Lovegood, to promote world peace."

"Hannah Abbott, to prove the world wrong."

"Rachel Wheaton Marvolo, to confront Harry Potter." She frowned at him.

"So I see you're using his name now," Harry spat bitterly. The lift moved downwards with a shaky motion,

causing a few of the girls to gasp and Neville to close his eyes tightly.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day."

"It's my name as well. Why shouldn't I use it?" she demanded.

"YOUR FATHER IS A DEATH EATER, RACHEL!" Harry's face was red and angry.

"No he isn't!" she screamed back.

"Well, we'll find that out tonight, won't we," he retorted as the lift shuddered once more before the doors opened.

"Now keep your voices low. If they're already here, we don't want them to know we're early."

"Harry, what-" Rachel began, looking confused.

"I don't have time to explain," he said harshly. The group moved into the atrium and gathered near the Fountain

of Magical Brethren. "We should have someone stay out here and act as a look-out in case they aren't here

yet," Harry said logically.

"Any volunteers?" Hermione asked.

"Why don't we stay?" Terry said, turning to Padma. "Would you mind?" She shook her head.

"It's fine with me," she responded. "How will we let you know if there are intruders?"

"By using these leftover coins from the DA," Hermione answered immediately. "Harry can keep one, and you

two can have the other. Just change the numbers on the bottom to the exact time you saw people enter, and

that way we'll know what's going on."

"What if it isn't Death Eaters who are coming in? What if it's someone else, should we still change it?" Terry

asked. Hermione pondered this point for a moment.

"How about this: if it's someone dangerous, change the numbers to 6, then the time. So if it's 12:15 when they

get here, make it 6 12:15. If it's someone who isn't dangerous, make it 5 instead." Terry and Padma nodded and

took the coin; Harry slipped the other one into the pocket of his robes.

"All right, pair off everyone," Harry ordered, and the group split into their given partners. Rachel stood alone. Harry

sighed. "I guess you're my partner," he said angrily, walking towards the lifts as the group followed behind him.

Again, they all crammed inside. "Level Nine, please," Harry said.

"Level Nine, the Department of Mysteries," the cool female voice said. The doors slid open to reveal a hallway with

a single door at the end.

"Here we go," Ron said with a deep breath. Harry strode ahead and opened the door's handle, which was surprisingly

unlocked. The rest of the group filed into the circular room, which was surrounded by doors. Hermione pulled out her

wand and muttered a quick spell, and a red "X" appeared on the door they had just entered from.

"Good thinking," Harry said appreciatively. The people who had not been in the Department of Mysteries during Harry's

fifth year were looking around in confusion.

"How do we know what door to go through?" Lavendar asked.

"We don't, really," Harry confessed. "You just have to guess." The room began to spin and Harry waited until it stopped.

He then picked the door just to the left of where he was facing. "Let's try this one." He opened the door to reveal a room

which they had not been in before: it looked as though it was actually outside, complete with trees, grass, a blue sky,

and even a few clouds. It reminded Harry of Firenze's classroom. He closed the door.

"_Flagrate_," Hermione said before the room spun again. This time, Harry picked a door from the other side of the room.

Peering inside, he saw a huge tank filled with green liquid.

"Ugh, not the brains again," Ron said, shuddering. "Try a different one, Harry."

"They're all connected, aren't they?" Neville asked, as the group waited for the wall to stop spinning. "I mean, if we try one

room and wander around a little bit, we're bound to run into what we're looking for... Right?"

"I think that's a brilliant idea," Luna said in a far-away voice.

"I don't," Hermione argued, her face stern. Harry was staring at the wall, trying to decide which door to pick. He walked

up to one of them and pulled the handle open to show another room that he didn't remember ever seeing; it was filled

with beautiful sparkling jewels that covered all the walls and the ceiling.

"Oooh," Lavendar whispered.

"It's so pretty!" Parvati squealed.

"It's not the right door," Hermione grumbled. Harry felt something burning in his pocket and pulled it out without thinking. It

was the old DA coin. He stared at it and gulped.

"Hermione... was 6 bad or good?" he asked slowly.

"BAD!" she shrieked, running over to look at it. "They just got here... it'll take them a couple minutes to get in..."

"Let's just go in here, hurry!" Ginny pleaded. The group rushed in together.

"Now what?" Ron asked in an anxious voice, as the entire group stood in the jeweled room.

"Well, we'll just do what Neville suggested," Harry said, trying to stay calm. "Pick doors until we find the right one. That's

basically what we were doing anyway." He walked up to one of the many doors at the end of the long room and pulled it

open to expose a room filled with clocks and other odd devices.

"We've been in here before!" Ron said with a sigh of relief.

"Now what?" Seamus asked in a low voice.

"You'd better pick fast, Harry," Hermione whispered. Harry looked around the room.

"Er... well..." A door slammed open at the back of the room and everyone whipped around to see what had caused the noise.

A figure shrouded in black robes was in the doorway. One of the girls gasped as the group quickly realized the danger that

they were in.

"In here!" the man yelled in a deep voice. Harry turned to see Hermione and Rachel looking at him with expressions of intense

fear.

"RUN!" he yelled, grabbing Rachel's hand. He pulled her with him across the room and into one of the doorways, following Lavendar

and Dean.

"Dear Merlin..." Dean muttered as the door closed behind them. The room reminded Harry of the waiting room at a muggle dentist's

office - except for the fact that everything was upside down. The four of them were virtually standing on the ceiling, where the plush

chairs, carpeting, and low table were placed as well.

"Oh... I feel sick," Rachel groaned, crouching low.

"C'mon," Harry mumbled, pulling her upwards and towards a different door. "Let's get out of here." A door to the left of them sprang

open and two Death Eaters entered, wands drawn.

"Get out of here, Harry!" Dean barked, pulling his own wand out.

"Keep going, we've got these two!" Lavendar said confidently, dodging a curse the second Death Eater had sent at her. Harry, with

Rachel close behind him, managed to walk upside down across the floor to the closest door. He quickly closed it, only to find that

it was the room full of planets that they had seen during their fifth year. Harry and Rachel left quickly and found themselves in a

room filled to the ceiling with filing cabinets. Rachel looked up at them curiously.

"I wonder what's in these?" she asked.

"I still can't believe you did that," Harry muttered angrily. She glared at him.

"Did what?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Came here!" he spat angrily.

"Well I can't believe you didn't tell me the truth!" she retorted.

"I couldn't tell you the truth," he hissed, stalking off towards one end of the room. "Now come on, there isn't time for this!" The door

immediately in front of them sprang open and Harry pulled out his wand reflexively. He lowered it when he saw his two best friends,

panting heavily, enter the room.

"They're coming this way," Ron informed them, holding his side. "Have you seen anyone else?"

"Just Lavendar and Dean... in this upside down room," Harry told them. Hermione nodded.

"We ended up with Seamus and Parvati," she said, walking towards another door. "They ran a different way when the Death Eaters

found us, though."

"Should we all stay together?" Rachel asked in a pleading voice.

"No," Hermione said firmly. "It's better if we're all split up. There's less of a chance of them finding Harry." She grabbed Ron's hand and

dragged him off through one of the doors. Harry picked a door as well and found himself back outside in the circular room with the spinning

wall. The few X's that they had managed to put on the doors had since disappeared. Feeling less than brave, Harry pushed one open. His

eyes widened as he recognized it as the Death Chamber. "Rachel, this is it," he whispered, walking inside. The room was cold and their

footsteps echoed off the walls.

"I don't like this," she whispered, looking around. She gasped as she saw the veil in the middle of the room. "What - I mean, is that-"

"Yes," Harry answered simply.

"So what, you're going to try to kill him with that?" Rachel asked, her face full of concern.

"Yes," he answered again. She closed her eyes as if in pain. "Rachel, you know I have to," he said harshly. She swallowed difficultly.

"I know. But why did you have to lie to me? Why did it have to be like this? I was worried enough about you coming in here for Sirius,

before I even knew..." She trailed off. "How did they know you would be here, anyway?" she asked.

"Oh, we have you to thank for that, my dear," a cold voice said from the other side of the room. Harry and Rachel turned rapidly to see

several black-robed figures laughing in the corner. Rachel's lip trembled.

"D-d-dad?" she stuttered. One of the figures pulled off his mask, exposing bleach-blonde hair and piercing light green eyes.

"Yes, angel. I'm so sorry you had to find out this way," he said sarcastically, his eyes cold and mocking.

"But what do you mean me... I didn't tell you anything!" she protested. The group laughed again.

"Nothing you remember telling me, love. Veritaserum is such a convenient potion." He grinned.

"But-" Rachel paused, looking horrified. Harry could practically see her think, and he knew it wouldn't be too long before she put two

and two together. "You mean, you got the date and location from me, except... it wasn't for... it was... I mean, Sirius..." She spun

around to face Harry. "You knew, didn't you?" she asked sadly. "You knew all along they were doing this to me." Harry's heart nearly

broke at the expression on her face.

"Rach, I couldn't tell you, they would have killed you!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, how dramatic! How heartbreaking! How horribly tragic!" Mr. Marvolo cried in a mocking voice, flinging his arm across his face in a

theatrical movement.

"SHUT UP! HOW COULD YOU-" Rachel began to scream. One of the figures behind Mr. Marvolo waved his wand slightly.

"_Silencio_," he said with a laugh and her voice was instantly gone. She glared at him.

"Good work, Audric," Harry heard the older man say before an intense pain ripped through his forehead. He fell to the ground, clutching

his scar. When he opened his eyes moments later, he heard laughter ringing around him and saw the concerned face of Rachel above

him. 'Are you okay?' she mouthed. He nodded, struggling to get up. He wondered dully why no one else had wandered into this room.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. We meet again. And, may I say, that I wish this to be our last meeting." The chilling voice of Lord Voldemort

rang through the enormous room. Rachel's hands covered her mouth and she backed shakily against the wall.

"I most certainly agree," Harry said, his temper rising. Voldemort's thin lips stretched into a bizarre smile.

"Now, with all the... help... you brought along tonight, I am led to believe that our information was not completely accurate. Perhaps you

thought that you would be able to defeat me with the assistance of several schoolchildren, but I believe you are mistaken." The Death

Eaters behind them snickered. "However, as we found out only two years ago, Sirius Black does mean something to you, does he not?

He was almost like a father to you. The parent you never had." He smirked.

"Thanks to you," Harry growled, gritting his teeth.

"What would you give to have him back, Harry?" Voldemort asked softly.

"It doesn't matter, he's gone," Harry answered bitterly.

"Ah, but you are wrong, boy. Through ancient magic, you can exchange one person for another through the veil. If you swear your life to

me, Potter, I will volunteer one of my servants to complete this task. You see, I am willing to lose one of my followers for you!" He looked

at Harry expectantly.

"Never," Harry said angrily, his eyes furious.

"Perhaps my choice of Death Eater will change your mind... Malfoy, get up here!" he barked. A shorter, shaking figure made its way up

to the front of the group. Harry's stomach did a flip-flop. _He's not talking about Lucius - that's Draco!_ he thought anxiously. Voldemort

wrapped a claw-like hand around the young man's shoulder. "Your bitter enemy, Potter. He dies, Black is saved, and you sign your life over

to me." He grinned again. "How does that sound?"

"It sounds like it's not going to work," Harry said flatly. "I don't kill innocent people and I know about the veil. I researched it. There is no way

to bring someone back." Voldemort's expression faltered.

"You've become too smart for your own good," he hissed. "However, I have another plan. One that involves you killing innocent people." The

smile returned to his face. "Wormtail, get the girl!" he ordered, pointing at Rachel.

"NO!" Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the now-advancing Wormtail. "Don't touch her," he threatened. Peter Pettigrew whimpered, but Voldemort

laughed softly.

"Let's see, Potter, there's... oh... twelve of us? And one of you?" He smirked. "I don't think there's much you can do about it." By this time,

Wormtail had managed to drag Rachel across the room. Harry approached the group cautiously as Voldemort pulled a something shiny out

of his pocket. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he realized it was a ring. _Not just any ring_, he thought as his heart sank_. It's Dulcinea Rosalind _

_Garcia's ring.__ The cursed ring. The soul-binding ring. If she puts that on, I can't kill Voldemort without killing her too!_ One of the Death Eaters was

struggling to hold Rachel down; another hit her with a spell that made her sink to the ground. Voldemort held up her limp hand and made to

put the ring on her finger.

"No!" Harry shouted, raising his wand. But before he could even yell out a curse, something amazing happened.

"_Reducto_!" a weak voice called out. Harry stared in awe as one of the Death Eaters shot the spell at the ring and it broke into tiny

pieces, falling into dust on the floor. Voldemort's eyes narrowed and his face wrinkled in disgust.

"Wormtail," he hissed, his voice full of hatred. "How dare you betray me! How dare you destroy my plans! HOW DARE YOU!"

"M-m-master, I had to," he stuttered, taking off his mask. "The Potter boy saved my life four years ago. I had to do something that would

save his life to make up for it."

"The Dark Lord takes no excuses! _CRUCIO_!" he screamed, pointing his wand at the now-writhing body of Peter Pettigrew.

Screams filled the air and Harry covered his ears in horror. Voldemort removed the spell and kicked Wormtail in the side. He let out

a long groan. "I do not allow traitors in my presence," he hissed, pointing his wand at Pettigrew's body. The man struggled to sit up. 

"You are no longer worthy to live. _Avada__ Kedavra_!" The green bolt hit Peter Pettigrew and his body went rigid, his eyes opened in horror,

and time seemed to freeze. A second later, Harry heard his body hit the cement floor with a sickening thump. He swallowed with difficulty.

"Now... _Expelliarmus_!" Voldemort commanded, and Harry's wand flew out of his hand. Voldemort grinned wickedly. "You won't

be needing that, boy. As we've already seen, our wands don't work very well against one another. I'm just going to have to kill you the

old-fashioned way." He pulled a emerald-encrusted sword from behind his back.

Harry, having regained his sense of where he was, began to slowly back towards the veil. As he expected, Voldemort followed.

"This isn't just any old sword, Potter," Voldemort told him, his face twisting into a grin again. "Oh no. This is the Sword of Slytherin,

one of the most powerful weapons in all of history." The gleaming green jewels in the handle reminded Harry of a sword that had been

owned by a different founder of Hogwart's. _Maybe, if I just concentrate enough, it will come to me,_ he thought desperately,

backing closer to the veil. He screwed up his face in intense concentration, but precious seconds later nothing had happened. A

feeling of despair washed over him. _This is it. I'm going to die._

A loud clanking noise behind them made Harry and Voldemort turn around. Harry saw one of the doors magically burst open and

an enormous red bird enter the room, an ancient sword clasped in his talons.

"Fawkes," Harry whispered joyously, his heart soaring. The bird dropped the weapon at his feet and Harry raised it despite its

extreme weight. Voldemort looked frightened at first, but the expression soon drifted off his face.

"What are you going to do boy, have a sword fight with me?" he asked mockingly.

"If that's what it takes," Harry grunted, swinging the sword at Voldemort. He could feel the rubies in the handle - they seemed to

be warming up, getting hotter and hotter every second. Voldemort sneered at him, swinging back. Harry dodged the shot and turned

his weapon sideways, hitting Voldemort with the flat edge of the sword. His aim was perfect. Harry watched, as if in slow motion, as

the Dark Lord realized what was about to happen. His eyes widened and he put his hands down to catch himself, but it was too late.

The twisted, demonic body of Lord Voldemort fell back through the howling wind into the abyss of the black veil.

The world seemed to have stopped. Harry was still clutching Godric Gryffindor's sword and Salazar Slytherin's weapon lay abandoned

on the ground in front of him.

"My Lord," one of the Death Eaters cried, dropping to his knees.

"My master!" wailed a female in the group.

"Nooo," cried another. Harry realized that the coin in his pocket had been warm for quite some time; he reached in unthinkingly and looked

at it. It read 5 12:30. _Five means someone good_, his barely-thinking brain was able to comprehend. He glanced at his watch and saw that

it was now 12:23. _Three minutes ago._

A sort of sudden music filled the room and Harry felt as though his breath had been taken away. He looked around for the source, and

discovered it was Fawkes.

"So beautiful," he whispered, sitting down in awe. "So beautiful." The song reminded him of all that he had gone through to get here;

all of the pain, the suffering, the deaths. Lily and James Potter. Sirius Black. Rachel's aunt and cousin. Countless relatives of Hogwart's

students. Order members. Even Peter Pettigrew. "Now it's all over," he mumbled to himself, feeling sick.

"Harry? Harry!" Voices were calling out to him from all over the room. In a state of shock, he collapsed onto the cold stone floor beneath him.

When he awoke, he looked around with bleary eyes and realized he was just outside the Ministry of Magic. He struggled to sit up.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione cried, kneeling next to him. "Are you okay? How do you feel? What-"

"Give him some room," a female voice said. Harry looked up to see Tonks, currently sporting shoulder-length purple hair.

"What happened?" he asked weakly.

"Ron and I came in right as you and Voldemort started fighting with the swords," Hermione began. Memories began rushing back to

Harry, and he groaned.

"He's gone," he mumbled. Hermione smiled.

"Yes, he is. After he fell through the veil, you fainted. Right then, Tonks, Professor Lupin, and Kingsley Shaklebolt came running

through the door. Tonks and Kingsley rounded up all of the Death Eaters that were still there, and Professor Lupin managed to

find everyone and get them out here."

"Is everyone okay?" Harry asked, looking around. It seemed as though everyone was there, but not in the greatest of shape. Neville

was clutching his arm, Ron had a trickle of blood running down his face, Parvati was lying on the sidewalk with a pained expression

on her face, and Seamus' robes were ripped and torn.

"I think you'll all live," Tonks said grimly. "Remus went to get help from St. Mungo's, so they should be here in a few moments.

Kingsley should be back soon too, he had to take the Death Eaters in." Harry nodded. Remus apparated soon after, followed by

several Healers and Kingsley. A sudden thought occured to Harry.

"Why was it only you three?" he asked slowly. "I mean, where's the rest of the Order?" Tonks, Remus, and Kingsley exchanged

a significant look. "What?" he asked.

"Well," Kingsley said in a slow drawl. "I contacted headquarters but there was no one there." Ron looked up with an expression of

horror.

"There was no one at headquarters?" he whispered fearfully. Kingsley was staring at the ground.

"So then he contacted us, since we're both pretty easy to get a hold of," Tonks said. She saw Ron's face and added, "We don't

know anything for sure yet, so don't get worried already."

"Right," Ron said dully, sitting down as one of the Healers fussed over the cut on his forehead.

"We're going to need to take them all back to St. Mungo's for a full evaluation," the Healer who appeared to be in charge said. He

held out a small circular stone with the St. Mungo's emblem carved into it: a wand and a bone, crossed. "You don't have to touch

it directly, but at least touch someone who's touching the portkey," he ordered. The group did as he said and soon found

themselves inside the magical hospital.

MEANWHILE, AT HOGWART'S

A group of red-headed people was watching an enormous bed apprehensively. An old man lay in the bed, twisting and turning

as he muttered nonsense words. Molly Weasley pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at the tears in her eyes.

"Oh dear," she said, breaking the silence in the room. She motioned towards the nurse, who had just finished applying some

sort of instrument to the man's arm. "How... how much longer do you think, Golda?" The woman shook her head.

"Not much, I'm afraid," she said with pursed lips. She strolled quickly out of the room and Mrs. Weasley's sobs began again.

The man in the bed continued to move in a state of sleep. He was becoming more and more agitated.

"No!" he yelled audibly. Mrs. Weasley hurried to his side.

"Albus, dear, it's just a dream," she said soothingly, trying to fight back her tears.

"No," he said again, this time hoarsely. A slow smile began to spread across his face and his body stopped moving. Fred

Weasley moved closer to the bed.

"Is he...." he began, but trailed off. The old man's eyes opened slowly and the people inside the room gasped.

"It is over," he said happily, his eyes twinkling brighter than anyone had seen them before. "It's over Molly. No more worrying

for you." He smiled again. His eyes closed again. "Goodbye to this world, hello to the next," he whispered before becoming

completely still. The nurse walked back into the room and picked up his arm to feel for his pulse. She shook her head and

placed his hand back on the bed.

"He's gone," she announced. Molly Weasley let out another sob. The nurse grabbed a nearby clipboard.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," she muttered out loud, writing down the name. "Time of death: 12:30 AM, April 27."

 After a brief check-up at St. Mungo's, the Healers had decided that no one was so badly hurt that they couldn't be cared for

by Madam Pomfrey. The group was transported to Hogwart's. Harry was surprisingly the least injured. He wandered through

the halls of Hogwart's as if in a daze, accompanied by Ron, whose head was covered in bandages, and Hermione, who had

sustained a small burn to her leg. Ron's head perked up as he heard voices in the corridor ahead of them.

"Oh... simply dreadful," a woman was saying, her voice pained. "It's just so sad, Arthur."

"It was his time, Molly," a man's voice responded.

"Mum? DAD?" Ron screamed, running down the hallway.

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, looking at her youngest son. "What happened to your head? Are you all right?" Ron grinned

at Harry.

"Tell her, mate," he said in a low voice.

"Mrs. Weasley... I, er... I defeated Voldemort," Harry said finally. Molly Weasley screamed before fainting. Arthur Weasley

managed to catch her and lowered her slowly to the ground.

"It's just been too much for her," he said quietly, pulling a small bottle out of his robes. He looked up at the trio. "Headmaster

Dumbledore died tonight," he told them. Hermione gasped, Ron looked shocked, but Harry just nodded.

"What... what time was that at," Harry asked with difficulty. Mr. Weasley looked up.

"Why, I believe it was just around 12:30. He said it was over, and told Molly not to worry." He poured a drop of the potion in

the bottle into Mrs. Weasley's mouth and she stirred. Harry smiled.

"He knew," he mumbled, a grin on his face. "He knew I won."

The following days were a blur for Harry. School was over for the seventh years, but they were allowed to stay in the castle

until their graduation in a week. Harry had spent several days visiting his injured comrades in the infirmary - especially Rachel.

She had been hurt worst; the curse that had caused her to pass out could not be identified, and thus it took much longer for

Madam Pomfrey to find a cure. Harry still visited her every day, even though she was unconscious. One day when he walked

into the Hospital Wing, her bed was empty. He whirled around to face Madam Pomfrey.

"Where - what happened to Rachel Wheaton?" he demanded. Madam Pomfrey smiled.

"We found a cure late last night, and by this morning she was awake and feeling much better. She's up in the Hufflepuff

dormitories resting right now." Harry sighed in relief and headed back to his own dormitory.

When he got to his bed, he collapsed into it. He had spent the last few days in interviews with reporters from all over the world.

His story had been printed in magazines, newspapers, and probably books by now, but he hadn't read any of it. He didn't want

to. Hermione was keeping up on the media front and had told him that all his press coverage seemed fairly accurate. Harry sighed;

he was glad for that at least, after that nasty Rita Skeeter woman.

An owl tapped its beak against Harry's window and he got up slowly to open it. He quickened his pace when he realized the

brown owl was Rachel's. He pulled the letter off its leg and began to read the neat handwriting.

_Dearest Harry,_

_I'm finally feeling better and out of the Hospital Wing, as you_

_may__ already know. Madam Pomfrey said you came to visit_

_me__ every day. Thank you._

_I don't know how to write this, it's just so hard. I feel like we've_

_been__ through so much together - maybe too much. You lied_

_to__ me and used me, but I was too naive to see what was really_

_happening__. We were both too desperate - me to have a family,_

_you__ to kill Voldemort. I feel like something that happened there_

_was__ irreversible. It's like everything is changed and we can_

_never__ go back. It's so different now, Harry. We aren't who we_

_used__ to be. I think it would be in our best interests to go our_

_separate__ ways. I'm sorry to break up with you through a letter,_

_but__ I wanted you to know as soon as possible. _

_Best of luck,_

_R_

Harry wiped away a tear. _I may have conquered the Dark Lord, but I will never understand women_.

Harry was quiet and sullen the next morning at breakfast. Hermione seemed on edge, and kept looking up

at the enchanted ceiling. Ron noticed this, as did Harry.

"What are you waiting for, rain?" Ron joked as he ate his porridge.

"No," Hermione answered, frowning. "For your information, the acceptance letters for university and all

post-graduate studies come today. I'm waiting to see if I got in." Harry's stomach fell a bit at this news.

"That's... today?" he asked, blanching. A huge flock of owls entered the Great Hall and Harry held his

breath. An owl flew to each of them with their N.E.W.T. results and Harry hurriedly tore his open. He

sighed in relief as he realized he had gotten everything he needed. _Now...__ I just need to know if I got in..._

More owls were flying in every second, filling the room. An official-looking barn owl dropped a letter for Hermione.

She opened it, squealing with happiness.

"I made it! I made it! And I got all my N.E.W.T.s!" she cried, doing a little dance. Another owl flew down to Ron,

who received a letter with the Chudley Cannons emblem on the envelope.

"Bloody hell..." he muttered, staring at a slip of paper with his eyes opened wide. Harry's stomach began to

sink. Maybe he hadn't gotten in, after all. Suddenly, a huge envelope fell in front of his face. He saw that it

was from the Ministry of Magic and immediately tore it open. A grin flitted across his face.

"I'm going to be an Auror!"

The former seventh year students at Hogwart's sat quietly as they waited their turn for their names to be called

during the graduation ceremony. Harry had never been to one before, but he was realizing he hadn't really missed

anything; it was intensely boring.

"Brocklehurst, Amanda."

_We're only to B,_ he thought miserably, looking around the room. He had never seen this many people in

the Great Hall before. Parents, students, teachers, friends... he smiled as he spotted the members of the Order

of the Phoenix sitting together to one side.

"Bullstrode, Millicent."

An ugly black-haired Slytherin girl ambled up to the front of the room to receive her diploma. Harry glanced behind

him and saw Ron playing with a piece of parchment.

"What is that?" he whispered, twisting around in his chair. Ron looked up and grinned.

"More money than I've ever seen in my life," he whispered back. "It's my sign-on bonus from the Cannons..." Harry

smiled.

"Congratulations, Ron."

"Congratulations to you too, Harry."

"Goldstein, Anthony."

The list continued and Harry's mind began to drift. It was called back when he heard the beginning of the P's.

"Parkinson, Pansy."

"Patil, Padma."

"Patil, Parvati."

"Potter, Harry." A few people in the audience began clapping enthusiastically, and the noise grew. By the time Harry

had gotten to the front of the room, the sound was deafening. Professor McGonagall handed him his diploma with

tears in her eyes.

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter," she said, shaking his hand.

"Ron? Are you almost ready?" Hermione's voice called from the hallway. Ron was rushing around, trying to find his

nice shoes.

"Come on in, Mione," he said breathelssly, looking under his bed. She entered the room, wearing deep purple dress

robes with her hair sleeked up into a french twist.

"Harry's ready, but you're still getting dressed? Honestly, Ron," she sighed, shaking her head. Harry smiled. He really

hadn't wanted to go to the feast and the ball that took place after graduation, but Ron had spent nearly an hour convincing

him. He supposed he would just eat dinner, mingle a little, then head back for an early night.

When Ron had finally found his shoes, the trio headed downstairs. Harry felt a little awkward as he entered the Great Hall,

which was now decorated with tiny falling stars and sparks of gold and silver raining down from above. The night was clear,

and through the enchanted ceiling they could see the stars and the moon. Harry sighed as he looked around. Everyone

seemed to have a date. Everyone but the Boy Who Defeated the Dark Lord.

The trio sat down at a long table, along with the rest of the Weasley family and a few professors. The feast was joyous

and full of laughter. Harry couldn't help but smile as he noticed that people seemed to be enjoying themselves more than

they had in years. After dinner was finished, the tables disappeared and some musicians took their place at the front of

the room.  The lead singer stood in front.

"Good evening, everyone," he said, his voice magically louder. "In the spirit of celebration, and in order to show the bond

between muggleborns and purebloods, we have decided to play some muggle songs in addition to our usual repertoire."

The audience clapped politely. "Tonight, we'll start out with a wizarding favorite, 'The Cauldron's Boiling'." A fast-paced

tune began and several people got up to dance. Harry watched as Ron and Hermione went out to the dance floor and had

to laugh as he saw Ron repeatedly step on his girlfriend's feet. He spent some time talking to the Weasleys before wandering

off in search of some fellow graduates.

"Hello, Harry Potter," said a dreamy voice behind him. Harry grinned.

"Hello, Luna. How are you?" He noticed she was still wearing her badge from the Ministry of Magic, which read ILuna Lovegood,

Visitor, Promoter of World Peace/I.

"I'm wonderful, thanks for asking. Father's selling so many more copies of the Quibbler now that your story has been printed.

Either that, or it's the article on blood-sucking bugbears..." She looked thoughtful.

"Er, of course," Harry said politely. He had spotted Rachel across the hall, chatting with Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan.

He had lost track of Ron and Hermione; he supposed they had gone outside for some fresh air.

"Would you excuse me, Luna?"

"Oh yes, Harry Potter. Have a good evening." She drifted away. Harry walked cautiously towards Rachel, trying to think of

something to say to her.

"Er - hi, Rachel," he said dumbly as she turned to look at him. Hannah gave him a wink and dragged Ernie away with her, giving

an excuse about going to get punch. Rachel glared after them. Harry took a deep breath. "Look, Rach, I'm really sorry. I just - I

don't know what else I can do."

"I'm sorry too," she said softly. A new song started and she smiled. "This is my favorite song."

"Did you, er, want to dance?" Harry asked awkwardly. She nodded. The couple moved out onto the dance floor.

_If I should stay_

_I would only be in your way_

_So I'll go but I know_

_I'll think of you_

_Every step of the way_

"Harry, I wish none of this had happened. I wish I could take it back. I just want to start over," she said sadly. He pulled her closer.

_And I will always love you_

"I know how you feel," he whispered. "I just want to start from the beginning. Do you think we could, Rachel?" She pulled back

to look at him.

"We could try." He smiled.

"Okay then. Let's try."

OUTSIDE

"Sorry Hermione, it was just getting too hot in there for me. Too many people," Ron said, grimacing as he pulled at the neck of

his dress robes. They sat down on a bench just outside the door.

"Now what, Ron?" Hermione asked, sighing. He looked at her cautiously; her words seemed to carry a lot of weight.

"What exactly do you mean?" he asked slowly.

"I just mean... Well, you're going to be off playing Quidditch, and I'll be in school, and we'll hardly ever see each other." She smiled

at him sadly.

"We'll be fine. I'll come and visit you all the time. Besides, you'll only be in school for a couple of years." He squeezed her hand and

she smiled back with tears in her eyes.

"Oh Ron, you're so sweet," she said, hugging him. Ron took a deep breath.

"Hermione," he said quietly, standing up from the bench and kneeling on the ground. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she

watched him fumble around in his pocket for a second before pulling out a small black box.

"Oh..." she mumbled, covering her mouth in shock.

"Hermione Jane Granger," Ron said. "Will you marry me?" She nodded, tears falling down her face.

"Of course," she whispered, hugging him. "Oh Ron, this ring is beautiful. How did you afford something like this?" She took the glittering

gem and placed it on her finger.

"Don't worry about it," he said, smiling as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

The trip back to London on the Hogwart's Express the next morning was a sad affair. As he stared out at the disappearing castle behind him,

Harry felt as though he was losing the only place he had ever called home. But at the same time, he knew there was something better

awaiting him. There were still dark wizards, there was still evil magic - and Harry James Potter was ready for the fight.

A/N:

Ta da! That's the end. This could have been several chapters, but I decided just to post it all together instead

of splitting it up. Hope you enjoyed it!!

I will be writing another story that takes place after this one, but it will not focus on the trio; rather, it will

be a Remus/Tonks romance. So, if that sounds interesting to you, watch for "An Unlikely Pair". It should

be up sometime soon!

Everyone who has read this story has been great. I love reading your reviews, and I appreciate your

faithfulness in always reading my story! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!


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